Heartlines
by chezchuckles
Summary: by Sandiane Carter and chezchuckles. Sequel to Stop Haunting Me third in the Beth Beckett Universe . Wedding bells sound only four months after Kate Beckett is shot in the cemetery. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Heartlines**

by **Sandiane Carter**, and **chezchuckles**

* * *

><p>Your heart is the only place that I call home,<br>I cannot be returned. . .  
>Just keep following<br>The heartlines on your hand.

-'Heartlines' Florence + the Machine

* * *

><p>Rick Castle walks into the diner with a sense of foreboding, due in part to the conversation ahead of him and in part to the greasy smell of fried food. If Kate knew he was here, she would. . .<p>

Yeah, see that's most of his problem. He has no idea what Kate would say. He's long ago resigned himself to the fact that Kate Beckett is a mystery he's never going to solve.

Jim half-stands as Rick approaches, gives him a firm handshake and a smile that's more in the eyes than on the mouth. A very Beckett kind of smile. Rick sits across from Kate's father and folds his hands over the tabletop.

"Morning, Rick."

"Good morning, Jim."

"I went ahead and ordered. Hope you don't mind," Jim says, sipping at his coffee. In front of the man is a plate of half-eaten scrambled eggs, bacon, and a couple sausages. "The waitress will be back around in-"

"No, thanks. I can't stay long. I've got to run get coffee and show up fashionably late to the precinct."

Jim cracks a half-smile at that and nods back. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

Rick swallows and presses his palms flat against the table. "It's about the wedding."

Jim grins and chews slowly on his eggs, but nods his head at Castle.

"I don't know anything about your. . .finances sir. Just guesses based on the things Kate has said. And I know that usually, it's tradition that the bride's family pays for the wedding. But you have to - I mean, I want you to know that if there's anything she wants - anything at all - and you don't think it's in the budget-"

"Rick-"

"No. Please. It's important to me that she gets anything she wants. Especially after this summer." He swallows hard and pushes through the flare of anxiety, hoping he's not overstepping by saying that to her father. "I want her to have the wedding she didn't even dare to dream about. But lacking that, at least let me offer to pay for whatever extra little thing she *does* want."

Jim regards him thoughtfully, chewing on a crispy piece of bacon. Rick doesn't drop his gaze, keeps his eyes on the man. He's proved himself to Kate's father before; he knows he doesn't have to prove himself again, but there's always this sense between the two of them that Rick is egging on Kate's need to bring justice to her mother's murder, that if it weren't for Rick, Kate would be in far less danger.

That's. . .there's some truth to that. He knows it. It's his fault she was shot at the beginning of this summer - he was the one to open her mother's case again, to push Kate right up to the brink of that rabbit hole.

But he takes some small comfort in the fact that Kate hasn't fallen through; he's kept her out of the worst of it. When he was finally allowed to see her in the hospital, she took one look at his face and told him that was it; she was going to get the sniper and then lay low for awhile.

Yeah, well, they haven't caught the sniper, have they? So Kate's not doing a whole lot of laying low.

"All right, Rick," Jim says finally, cutting into Castle's ever darkening thoughts. "If something comes up that we may not have the budget for, I'll let you know. I won't tell her it's you either."

He grins, relieved that Jim has agreed so easily. He takes a long breath and sits back. "Thank you."

"But Rick-"

"Yeah?"

"As thrilled as I am about my daughter getting married, I have to say this-"

Rick freezes.

"-I always thought it'd be you and Katie getting there first. Not little Bethie. Wanna tell me why that is?"

His heart pounds. "Sir, I'll marry your daughter the second she lets me."

Jim laughs and takes a long draught of his coffee, his eyes meeting Rick's over the rim. Castle clenches a fist on his thigh, tries to keep from thinking about how similar his and Jim's expectations are.

He thought he'd be marrying Kate long ago. But with the shooting, Kate has just. . .

"You might wanna rethink that, son."

"What?"

"As soon as she lets you? You think Kate lets anyone do anything?"

No. Damn it.

"Maybe you should just ask her, see if she *wants* to." Jim gives him a long and thorough look that Castle can't help but freak out over. A little. Just a little inward squealing. Nothing too terribly girly.

"Does that. . .are you telling me that Kate's talked to you about. . .about marrying me?"

Jim's face shuts down. "I've been in AA too long to start betraying confidences now, Rick."

Yeah, but. . .but he just did. Didn't he? Even *saying* that he's not going to betray a confidence means Kate has talked to him. About marriage. About marrying Rick Castle.

Holy shit.

"I haven't even. . .I don't even have a ring," he whispers, scraping a hand down his face. And speaking of Kate. "I gotta go. Sorry. Thank you. Uh. . ."

"Go, go," Jim laughs, his smile stretching across his face now, eyes and mouth both. "Get my daughter her coffee before she takes off someone's head."

Castle laughs, scrambles up from the table, shakes Jim's offered hand.

A ring. And. . .and a plan. He needs a plan. Actually, the ring is. . .she would want to look with him for a ring. She's said that before. Not in so many words, but when Beth showed up at their front door bubbling over about how Alex surprised her with this ring, Kate had said something very revealing about how funny that was, how she'd want to pick it out for herself.

Something like that. So he should-

"Son?"

Castle jerks out of his daydreaming and glances down. He's still slowly shaking Jim's hand. The man stands up, claps him on the shoulder with a wide grin.

"Son, you might want to start with coffee and work your way up from there."

Castle grunts a laugh and nods to older man. "Yeah. Good call."

Time to go meet Beckett. Think about rings later.

* * *

><p>Kate is on the phone with the suspect's roommate, her forehead resting against her hand, when a cup of coffee makes an appearance at the edge of her vision. She looks up, meets the warm blue eyes of Richard Castle, and a smile relaxes her face, makes her realize how tense she's been.<p>

"Yes, Mr. Murran," she tells the man on the phone, her whole body tingling under the steady gaze of her partner. "I understand that you don't remember that night very well. But if anything comes back to you, will you please give me a call? Your friend Rob could really use your help. Yes. Okay. Well, thank you anyway."

She hangs up with a sigh, and reaches for the coffee. Their case is not even close to unraveling; she'll take all the comfort she can get.

"Who was that?" Castle asks, settling down in his chair.

"Rob's roommate. Useless. Says he went to bed early that night, and he was asleep when Rob came home. But, and I quote, that doesn't mean anything because he's a very heavy sleeper. Awesome."

She takes a sip of coffee and swallows blissfully, letting the taste unfurl on her tongue, down her throat. Delicious.

Even through her half-closed eyelids, she notices that the happiness and excitement dancing in Castle's eyes seem to run deeper than his usual cheer. Something's going on with him. And she's seen that look before. Plotting. He's plotting something.

"Where have you been, Castle?" She asks in a nonchalant voice, turning back to her computer. "It's twenty past ten."

"Your many talents never cease to amaze me, you know? Not only can you chase down suspects in high heels and speak Russian - sorry, Ukrainian - not only do you know comic books and Forbidden Planet, but you can also tell the time. Skills, Beckett. You got mad skills."

She debates giving him a death glare, but decides it would still be too much acknowledgement. Eyes still on the screen, she says after a second, "I'm sorry, you were saying something?"

His lips quiver as he clearly holds back a smile, but he keeps silent. Somewhere in her mind, Kate makes a note of how skillfully he just eluded her question (mad skills indeed), but the buzzing of her phone keeps her from further investigation.

Laughter tumbles out of her lips as she reads Beth's text, and she half-consciously presses a hand to her mouth, as if to prevent it from happening again. She's aware of Castle's attention as she texts back, feels the weight of it on her skin, but she waits a few more seconds to explain.

Just to punish him for not telling her the whole truth before.

When she lifts her gaze from the phone, though, Rick is watching her with such love written on every line of his face, the earnest set of his brows, the close-lipped, tender smile, that she finds herself guilt-ridden and breathless at the same time.

"Beth?" He asks, and she nods, recovers the use of her tongue.

"Yeah. She, uh, she's begging me to join her and Alex's mom for lunch, and help find the 'perfect dress'. Apparently, shopping with Alex's mom is not going as well as she hoped. But at least she has Alexis."

"Remind me again why you're not there?"

Kate opens her mouth in protest, but she has to admit he has a point. She sort of backed out from the whole finding a dress process, because Alex's mom - Elise - and Beth get along so well, and honestly, shopping has never been Kate's strongest suit.

It might also have something to do with the fact that she can't look at a wedding dress without seeing Castle's face, and hearing his murmured words from months ago. _Can I marry you first?_

She's been ignoring them for a while, but it's more difficult when you're surrounded with wedding preparations. The words are nagging at her, demanding her attention like a child tugging on their mother's sleeve, and so... And so she bailed on her sister. Nice, Kate.

"I told her I'd join them," she eludes, meeting Rick's eyes. "You didn't have any plans for lunch with me, did you?"

Something crosses his face, a look that she cannot quite identify. It's not disappointment, it's not guilt... She can't put her finger on it.

"Nope."

Huh. And that was a lie. Interesting. The Castle she knows wouldn't miss an opportunity to make a dramatic statement about being neglected. Kate tilts her head, the question at the tip of her tongue; he beats her to it.

"Fill me in about the latest developments of the case?" He asks, standing up to get closer to the board. "Did you find anything useful this morning, or were you stalling until you could get my unique and illuminating input?"

She pushes her chair back and follows his lead, smirking.

"Oh, Castle," she breathes seductively in his ear when she's right next to him, eyeing his little jump of surprise with satisfaction, "We're so lost without you. The 12th precinct stops working when you're not here. Have I never told you?"

"Uh," he hedges, and swallows visibly, before his eyes fixate on something past her shoulder. "Um, Kate? Gates is looking at us."

She immediately takes a step back and straightens her spine, cursing inwardly at their pain in the ass of a new captain. Back to work.

"Okay. So, Esposito and Ryan talked to the victim's boss, and the guy said..."

* * *

><p>The door of the restaurant opens, and the bell chimes gaily. Beth looks up, eager and a little desperate, but the short, portly man who has just come in is about as far from her sister as an elephant can be from a gazelle. She holds back a sigh. Alexis is watching her from the other side of the table; her laughing blue eyes see everything, even as she talks to Elise about her plans for university.<p>

It's not that Elise is an evil woman. She's not. She is, in fact, quite the opposite.

Beth turns her eyes away from the door and glances at Alex's mother, warmth spreading through her chest as she notices the woman's attentiveness, the way she listens to Alexis. Elise has the same blue grey eyes as her son (or well, it might be more accurate to say Alex inherited them), the same easy smile. She's a little plump, but she wears it well, and it only adds to the motherly vibe that she gives.

Beth is grateful, she is, for the way Elise welcomed her into her family. Not once did she look at Beth like she thought _you're not good enough for my son_, not once did she comment on Beth's chaotic life to say anything else than, "It must be so interesting, having all these different experiences!" Elise is not perfect, but she might be the perfect mother-in-law. Or close.

And where Kate would probably feel smothered by Elise's attentions, where she would feel trapped by the woman's kindness and warmth, Beth drinks it in, and responds in kind. It's just who she is.

So, of course, when Elise asked Beth if she could come to the bridal stores, help her choose her wedding dress, the youngest Beckett didn't even consider saying no. What Beth didn't realize at the time, though, is that Elise has very decided taste in matters of dress, and they're not...exactly the same as Beth's. The woman means well, and at least she doesn't take offense when Alex's fiancé politely says no - thank God - but this morning has proved a trying experience.

The other thing Beth hadn't counted on is her own nervousness.

Somehow, the bridal shops have managed something that nothing else has before: they've made it real.

She is going to marry Alex Conrad. *Marry* him. In two weeks. She's been a little dizzy with that knowledge all morning, flutters in her stomach as she tried on dresses, and she wants to please everyone, wants Elise and Alexis to approve, wants Alex to be breathless when he sees her, and -

She doesn't even know what dress *she* wants anymore.

This is why she needs Kate. Kate will know.

The restaurant door chimes again, and this time Beth smiles in relief at the slim form of her sister, the sweep of dark hair, the confident stride.

Kate.

"Sorry I'm late," the detective says, offering a smile round as she takes off her jacket, and takes a seat next to Alexis. "The captain called me into her office just as I was leaving, asking for an update. Hello, Elise."

"Hi, Kate. Lovely to see you," Alex's mother answers with a happy smile.

They've only met once before, because this summer, when Beth and Alex started planning the wedding and Beth got to see a lot of his family (his parents are divorced, but Elise remarried, which makes for some fun table arrangements), Kate had...her own stuff to deal with.

And yes, by stuff Beth means getting shot and recovering from a near-fatal injury. Even though she tries not to think of it this way.

"Have you ordered already?" Kate asks, looking at the menu.

"No, we were waiting for you," Alexis says. "But we do know what we're ordering."

"Don't feel rushed, though, dear," Elise adds graciously.

Beth sees her sister struggle not to roll her eyes, and a little smile plays on her lips. Suddenly she can't remember why she ever considered doing this without Kate.

"Okay, ready," Kate says after ten seconds of inspecting the menu, and she gestures to the nearest waitress. When they've all ordered, she turns to Beth with an ironic look in her eyes.

"So, Bethie. Two weeks before the wedding? You sure that's not too early to pick out your dress?"

Beth sticks out her tongue, which earns a laugh from Alexis and a smile from Elise.

"Plenty of time," she assures with a confidence she doesn't feel. "Can you stay this afternoon, though?" She asks more seriously. "Or do you have to get back to work?"

"I can stay for a while," Kate hedges. "I'll have to be back at the precinct by four, but I explained it to Gates, so it should be fine."

Should be: that means Kate's new boss didn't really agree to the whole thing, doesn't it? Beth bites her lip, swallows back the words that want out. She's never met Victoria Gates, but the little she's heard from Rick doesn't bode well in her opinion. Anyone too dumb to see her sister's value (or Rick's either) is an idiot in Beth's eyes.

"So, what stores have you been to so far?" Kate asks, turning her eyes to Elise as a way to include her in the conversation.

Elise is delighted, and she immediately starts a detailed list of the dresses Beth has tried on; the young woman only has to smile and add a few words here and there, especially since Alexis often jumps in with her own observations.

That leaves Beth with plenty of time to watch her sister as she inquires and talks and smiles, like nothing happened, like she didn't get shot in the chest four months ago, like she didn't almost die.

Oh, she is morbid today. But for some reason, all the wedding stuff brings her back to the very reason why she agreed to marry Alex, why she's foregoing all her new rules about taking it slow and waiting to see what happens. And that reason has everything to do with a certain sunlit cemetery, with the look on Rick's face as he sat in the hospital's waiting room. Aghast. Broken.

Not that Beth was faring much better herself.

She pushes back the memories, tunes back to the conversation, and lets Alexis's luminous smile drag her out of that funk, so uncharacteristic for her.

Kate's alive and well now. And she's helping Beth find a dress. A wedding dress.

Two weeks.

Excitement bursts into Beth's chest, finally, and she lets herself revel in it for a while, bask in the soft glow.

She's getting married. Holy crap.

* * *

><p>Kate follows her sister into the third bridal shop, knowing she's got to get it together and help Beth fend off Elise's thoughtful and rather, uh, traditional suggestions. But as she trails her fingers over the various choices, she can't help turning a little morbid.<p>

She really thought Castle would've asked her by now. It's been. . .four months since she was shot at Captain Montgomery's funeral, four months since he cradled her in the grass, his voice cracking with grief as he begged her not to leave.

_I love you Kate. Stay with me. We still have to get married, so you can't leave me now-_

She feels even now the burn of pain in her chest, presses her hand against the surgery scar, rubs her thumb against the thickest part. What she remembers most were his eyes, anchoring her in the pained present, seeing her whole life flash in his eyes but being helpless to move, to speak, having to watch it all spill away.

The moment he said _get married _everything slowed down, drop by drop, until time itself arrested, stretched on forever until it was just him, Castle hovering over her, the force of his love a tourniquet.

She survived. She still finds that exceptional. Startling. The moment she woke, she saw it all in his face and couldn't breathe through it, couldn't hold it in. She felt like one of them needed to sob, but she didn't know who. So neither of them did. And the moment broke and fell away and never returned again.

She's so very grateful she was conscious for Alex's proposal. It was maybe the second time she woke after surgery, and Rick was sitting at her side, stroking her arm with his fingers, holding her hand, and everyone else was crowded inside as well, breaking all the rules. Her father was brushing her hair back and Alex was at the foot of the bed with Beth and Alexis, and he just-

Dropped to one knee. Took her sister's hand. Apologized for not having a ring, for not having a plan or words or even the best timing and-

Kate remembers Castle's hand gripping hers so tightly, remembers the tears burning in her eyes, remembers *that* as the moment when she was certain - when she was confident - that she was going to be fine. She was going to survive.

She lifts her lips as she watches her sister patiently but unenthusiastically regard Elise's fifth suggestion - an ivory gown with puffy sleeves. Kate bites her lip and turns back to the task, determined to put away her disappointment.

It's just-

Kate sighs. Really, she keeps waiting for Castle to make some grand gesture. She doesn't want to take that away from him, not after he had such ardent and eager ideas about what was and wasn't acceptable in a proposal. But, damn, Castle. Hurry up already.

Oh, this one.

Kate stops before a display, blinks to clear the strange alternate visions from her eyes, studies the dress just behind the one on the mannequin.

"Bethie," she hisses, waving her hand for her sister to come over.

Beth extracts herself from Elise; Alexis comes up behind Kate and offers a little _ohhh_ of approval.

"Oh my, Katie. You. I. That's it."

"You have to try it on first, silly." Kate makes a face at her sister and steps over to the dress, thumbs through the two or three behind it in varying sizes. Beth dragged them out of the last boutique and said she wasn't going back into a store that only carried size 0s and looked down on you if you didn't have an appointment or a bank account as fat as Castle's. So, off the rack it is. Probably a good idea with two weeks to go.

Kate pulls out an eight and glances over at her sister. Hmm. Maybe a ten. Kate and Beth are both just so tall, but Beth has curves where Kate does not. She grabs the six as well and hands all three of them to Beth. Better not insult Beth in case she's totally off. Right? Not the bride-to-be while she's shopping for her wedding dress.

"Here you go."

Alexis gives a little bounce on her feet, looking so much like Rick in that moment that Kate has to laugh.

Beth hooks her arm through Elise's to pull her into the group, smiling at Kate. "Okay, let's try it on."

* * *

><p>Kate sits back in awe, stunned as her sister steps onto the dais in front of the mirrors and twirls.<p>

Oh my God.

"Beth."

Her sister throws her a look over her shoulder, impish and vulnerable at the same time. Alexis stands up and clasps her hands - so cliche a response and yet, what else is there for it?

Beth's profile in the wedding gown is simply exquisite. Kate stands up from the viewing couch, Elise stunned into silence behind her, and approaches the mirrors, watching Beth smooth her hands over the dress.

The dress. Wow. Lace over silk in a straight line to the floor, a satin ribbon crimped under her breasts with a sprig of seed pearls in an irregular shape. The sleeves are simply a satin band with rosettes and scallops worked into the dainty, graceful lace that caps Beth's shoulders.

"Beautiful," Kate breathes.

Beth raises her arms and lifts her hair off her neck, draws the rubber band from her wrist to amass the curls in a loose knot at her nape. The strands that escape frame her face perfectly, highlight the angle of her cheekbones, offsetting the smooth line of her jaw.

Kate reaches out her hand and grasps her sister's, chewing on her lip, her chest tight and painful with love.

"Katie?"

"Oh God, Beth. You're beautiful."

On her other side, Alexis leans against Kate's shoulder, drawing her arm through Kate's free one. "Alex is gonna fall over when he sees you walk down the aisle in this."

Beth's lips widen into a brilliant smile, all of her uncertainty and self-criticism disappearing. "Yeah. He will."

Kate lifts the hand tangled in Alexis's, touches the girl's cheek for a moment. Ever since Alexis saw her get shot, she's been so. . .needy. Kate doesn't know how to help, how to change it, how to make the young woman feel safe again.

Beth turns back to Elise, offers her an inclusive smile. "Well? What do you think, Elise?"

Alex's mother stands up, her hands pressed against her heart, tears in her eyes. "I'm so very grateful he found you."

Beth laughs, dashing her hand at the tears spilling out of her eyes as well, shaking her head at Elise. Kate grins at her sister, not at all surprised at Beth's emotion. She and Elise get along marvelously in that way.

"Me too," Beth says and shrugs her shoulders, causing the dress to flutter around her. "I want it. This is the one. Katie?"

She nods. "I've got Dad's card. I'll take care of it."

"Oh, but - I haven't even looked at the price. I don't know-"

"Bethie. Shut up and take it off so I can go pay for it." She stares her sister down with her best interrogation look. Alexis, still close at her side, nods to Beth as well.

No matter the limit on her father's credit card, no matter what her own bank account might say right now - and it's pretty depleted after those three months recovering, first in her father's cabin and then in the Hamptons with Rick - this is the dress Beth is getting.

Beth turns back to the mirror, taking a long look as if she might argue.

Alexis leans in close to Kate and whispers, "My Dad said she gets whatever she wants, Kate. I have his AmEx card with me. There's no limit on it."

Kate turns startled eyes to Alexis, blinks furiously to keep the emotion from overwhelming her.

She kisses Alexis's forehead. "Your dad is a very good man."

Yeah, he *is* good. Still.

_Hurry up, Rick._


	2. Chapter 2

**Heartlines**

a story by Sandiane Carter and chezchuckles

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><p>Timeline Note: This is the third story in the Beth Beckett Universe, which began with Ghost on the Canvas and continued with Stop Haunting Me. This story falls four months after Kate Beckett gets shot in the cemetery, and eight months after Alex Conrad shows up in season three. The idea is that the seasons' episodes progress pretty much the same, just with the added twist of a sister for Kate (which helped to result in a relationship with Castle). We hope this clears up any confusion.<p>

* * *

><p>Castle stares at the murder board as if he's hoping to get it to move by the sole power of his mind.<p>

That's actually not so far from the truth.

He wants to solve this, or at least find a lead, something to make up for his lateness this morning. But it's not just that. He also wants the case over so that Kate's mind is free, unburdened, if – _when_ – he decides to...

Propose.

His knees give a little at the thought; he leans against Beckett's desk, makes it look as natural as he can. Solve the case first, Rick, and then you can start picturing her in a white dress.

Well, actually, she must be surrounded by white gowns right now. Looking for Beth's perfect dress, of course – but maybe she's using this as an excuse, maybe she's also letting her fingers linger on the white silk or satin, letting herself imagine...

Oh, wow. A few words from her dad and now look at him. Daydreaming about their wedding day.

He might want to ask her opinion first.

With a ruthless smile at himself, Rick focuses back on the board, his eyes darting from the timeline to the suspects, trying to find that Kate-like state of calm concentration. Kate-zen. Which is stupid, of course, because it doesn't really work for him.

The murderboard doesn't speak to him; the story does. Spinning theory with Kate.

He sighs, shifts, starts going over the things they know about their victim. He's recapping the woman's family history when the loud ding of the elevator breaks his focus. He involuntarily looks up; surprise freezes him for a second before he moves forward.

"Alex," he greets jovially. "What are you doing here?"

The groom-to-be smiles back at him, a little nervous, looking like he doesn't know what to do with his hands. He buries them in his pockets, jerks them out, twists them together.

O...kay.

"Can I – show you something?" Alex asks, glancing around secretively like he's carrying a bomb or an indecent amount of money. Knowing him, Castle highly doubts that either is true.

"Sure," he says, waving him towards the break room. He's in need of some coffee, anyway.

As he handles the cups, starts the machine, he can see Alex fidgeting from the corner of his eye. What is the man so anxious about? Is he getting cold feet?

If he is, Castle is probably not the best person to come to for advice.

Okay, not true. His previous marriages may have left him somewhat wary, but he knows Kate has nothing, _nothing_ to do with Meredith or Gina. It's almost like they don't come from the same planet.

He trusts Kate. Trusts her like he's never trusted another human being in his life.

Apart maybe from his mother.

He won't get cold feet. And he doesn't think Alex would either; the man looks at Beth like she is some goddess who has condescended to share his unworthy mortal life. (It would make Castle laugh, if he could be completely sure he never looks at Kate the same way).

"There," Alex says brusquely, holding a white, rectangular box to him.

It looks like a jewellery case, but larger than you would expect for a ring. Rick takes it, flicks it open: two wedding bands are sagely tucked in a dark blue velvet cushion, exquisite in their simplicity. Diamond and white gold.

He remains silent for a second, powerless against the way the sight tugs violently at his heart, at how much he wants this for himself; apparently, a second is more than Conrad can handle.

"Do you think they're nice? I think they're nice – I think she'll probably love them – but I wasn't sure, wasn't sure if she'd want to come with me, and so I didn't mean to buy them, I wanted to wait, but _really_ I couldn't resist when I saw them, because I could just, see Beth with this on her finger, and so, do you think – do you think she'll be mad?"

He stops suddenly to gulp down some air, then *finally* seems to notice the wide grin that has spread over Castle's face. His shoulders slump and he runs a hand over his face, laughs reluctantly.

"I'm ridiculous, aren't I?"

Rick pats his upper arm, merciful.

"We've all been there. They're gorgeous," he says, nodding at the rings. "I'm sure she'll love them. Besides, Beth likes surprises, doesn't she?"

Unlike Kate. Yeah. He's not making the mistake of buying Kate a ring that she hasn't seen.

"She does," Alex sighs in relief. "Yes. Yeah. Right."

The younger man moves to the coffee machine, probably in need of some liquid comfort, and Castle is left staring at the wedding bands. Really, really nice. He's vaguely jealous.

He should probably close the box, but something stronger grabs ahold of him, opens in his chest; he reaches for the woman's band, unearths it gently. He can imagine sliding something like this onto Kate's finger, imagine the look she will level on him –

As if warned by a sixth sense, alerted to her presence, he suddenly looks up. Kate is standing in the door frame of the break room and it takes him a second to realize that it's really her, that she's really here. Not just a vision straight from his imagination.

She's not looking at him. Her eyes are on the ring he's holding, riveted, transfixed, and oh – _oh. _He cannot breathe; he's awed, amazed, and this can't even compare to the shock of her father's words this morning.

It's there, all over her face, for everyone to see. For him. The dancing flame of joy, of tremulous hope.

She _wants _it.

He doesn't know what to say. And yet he has to say something – can't let her believe –

"Alex dropped by to show me the wedding bands he bought," he quickly explains, his throat so tight it's a wonder he can speak at all.

She looks into his eyes then; he can see the effort she makes to tuck it all back in.

"Oh," she says softly, and he would never have thought a single syllable could hold so much disappointment.

He hears Alex move behind his back, and then the young man comes forward eagerly.

"Kate, hey! Oh, this is wonderful. I didn't think you'd be back already. You can give me your opinion – not that I don't value yours, Rick..."

"Yeah, yeah," Castle grumbles, pretending to be upset.

"Actually," Alex says, as if struck by a luminous idea, and turns to Kate. "Maybe you could try it on? I know Beth's size, but the woman at the store said this particular brand was sometimes a little different –"

Horror rises in Rick. She thought, if for a split second, that the ring was for her, and he's had to let her down, and now Alex...

"No," he says firmly, exactly when she says, "Sure."

She and Alex give him a surprised look; he feels a little ridiculous. But surely... Kate holds out her hand, palm open, her face the very picture of calm and collected. Maybe he's wrong. Maybe she doesn't mind.

He drops the wedding band in her hand, his heart missing a few beats as he watches her slip it on her slender finger. He wants to be the one doing that.

Wants it so badly that it hurts.

"It should be perfect," she tells Alex with a smile, "it's slightly too large for me, but I think all of Beth's rings are. Her fingers are just a touch bigger than mine."

The young writer beams at her like a man who has just been rescued from a terrible death; Castle's fondness for Conrad resurfaces suddenly. Alex takes the box back from him, offers it to Kate so that she can put the ring back.

She glances at Rick as she slowly takes it off, and he can't mistake that look, encouragement and impatience rolled into one. Everything in him soars to see it, tries to tear through his chest and make its way to her.

Just you wait, Kate Beckett.

Just you wait.

* * *

><p>She spends too long staring at the murder board that night, but Castle is with her, and something just clicks, like it always does when they're together. She puts a call in to Judge Markaway for a warrant; she gets everything set up for tomorrow morning.<p>

The takedown occurs at five a.m. and Castle is right at her back, not even complaining about how he didn't get to finish his coffee. Problem is, her hands are shaking as she draws her weapon and chases their suspect.

In a back room of the warehouse (it's always a warehouse, isn't it?), the guy turns and pulls his gun, screaming at her to get back, get back, and all she can hear is the ringing in her ears of the sniper shot, the screaming; her hands won't cooperate.

Castle is at her back, sliding forward. "Stay back, Castle," she warns, but she can hear the crack in her voice.

Their suspect steps towards them, cocking his gun with deadly accuracy, and her own weapon falters.

Behind her, Castle creeps closer. "Take it easy, Kate."

Castle. No. She can't-

It takes a supreme force of will to raise her weapon, to aim, even as the flashback rolls around her.

"Take it easy. You've got this."

Just like every therapy session he dropped her off at, every time he helped ease her out of bed in those first few weeks, every small and excruciating recovery step forward - that mantra:_ You've got this_.

That, more than anything, acts as an anchor. She brings up her stabilizing hand, narrows her eyes to focus past the too-bright sky in a cloudless cemetery.

"No one dies today," she growls. "You hear me? Put it down or I swear, I will drop you."

The flash of steel in her eyes, the grit in her voice must convince him, because he drops his weapon; it clatters across concrete. Esposito and Ryan are swarming in and collaring their suspect, and then Castle is at her back, not touching her, warmth and support and confidence radiating off of him and all she wants to do is crawl back into his bed and bury her face in shame.

But at least no one died today.

* * *

><p>Kate's not sure how it happens, but she's the one who ends up with the baby.<p>

Alex Conrad picked up his old college room mate and best man from the airport; James Robert Cash and his wife Shelby brought their 8 month old son with them. Then Beth had a 'quick' bridesmaid shopping trip since Kate was free after the arrest; they found and bought the dresses for Alexis, Kate, and Beth's room mate from France, Lucie. Then Beth picked up Lucie from the airport and everyone ended up back at the Castles' place - a central location Beth laughingly called it.

Rick ordered pasta and pizza from Celeste's, Alexis helped arrange the dining room table with extra chairs and a card table (Castle banned the use of his poker table), and then everyone was sitting around talking and laughing and passing the baby around.

Maybe it's because Kate is sitting next to the kid's mother, who seems thrilled to let someone else handle him, or maybe it's because the little one keeps trying to eat Alexis's hair (she sits to Kate's right), but Kate is the one holding him again.

His mother, Shelby, is a native of Mississippi and named for Shelby Foote. Even though she looks exhausted behind the careful makeup, she talks animatedly with Alex and her husband, James, each of them telling college stories. She hands Kate the bottle that James warmed in the microwave and now it looks like Kate is now feeding the baby too.

Baby J.R., as they're calling him (for James Robert Cash, Jr. which Kate finds atrocious), takes the formula eagerly and arches his back in Kate's arms, smacking his gums around the bottle, thumping it with his fists before grabbing it.

Alexis leans in and brushes her fingers over J.R.'s forehead, darting back when the baby releases the bottle and reaches for her hair. Kate laughs and adjusts the eight month old to her other arm, farther away from Alexis.

"He's cute. Look at that smile," Alexis coos.

He is cute. And his belly bowls out in his grey-striped footie pajamas; he keeps giving Kate these adorable, whole-face smiles which make his blue eyes squint up. "Hey there, Jamie. Yeah, you like that name better, don't you?"

Alexis snorts and leans closer to Kate. "J.R. is cowboy-cool. Jamie? That's a girl's name."

"Look who's talking, oh, it's Ashley's girlfriend," Kate teases back, nudging the girl with a shoulder.

Alexis flushes but rolls her eyes.

"Oh no, not-uh, Alexis Castle. Can't roll your eyes at me. I invented that."

This time it gets a laugh out of the girl, and her bright eyes flash to Kate with something that she thinks might be relief and adoration both. "Jamie is also Rook's nickname, Kate. So that's kinda. . .weird."

"There is that." Kate sighs down at the baby, wondering again what she's supposed to do to help Alexis with her neediness, with the way she can't let go. Nothing seems to settle her anxiety.

As if to prove it, Alexis leans in and rests her cheek against Kate's shoulder, one hand coming up to stroke the baby's cheek as he sucks on his bottle. Kate glances over at her, but her face is hidden.

Kate's not a mother; she has no clue how she's supposed to make this right for Alexis.

At some point, everyone gets up for seconds or to refill their glasses, some cluster together to hear Lucie and Beth chatter in French, pulling Kate into their stories at random. Their positions all shift, moving around the table, moving into the living room, back to the kitchen. After awhile, Kate feels a warm hand at her neck and looks up to see Castle sitting down beside her.

Alexis has disappeared to join in a halting conversation in French, while Shelby and James and Alex try to make up crazy translations. Castle moves his chair into position so that he's blocking Kate's view, but the soft blue of his eyes is the only thing she needs to see.

"Hey," he whispers.

She glances down and J.R. is drifting to sleep, his little lashes brushing his cheeks, one tiny finger flicking back and forth slowly over the bottle.

"Kate-"

She looks up at him and her breath catches. Kate untangles an arm from around the baby and wraps her fingers around Castle's elbow. He draws in closer and brushes his lips across her mouth, a hot breath of need and desire.

"What are you thinking?" she whispers against his cheek.

"You are so beautiful."

Her throat closes up.

* * *

><p>Lucie is hilarious; she slips into French whenever she gets excited and then Beth does the same, talking back to her, and then everyone will laugh at them. Except Kate, of course, who knows what they're saying. Castle glances over at her and she's free again; Shelby has taken the baby somewhere to change him.<p>

While he's got the chance, he takes Kate by the hand and drags her towards his study, even as she shouts back to Beth in French, something that he swears is dirty. Alexis is giggling so hard it can't possibly be anything clean.

She stumbles after him into his office and catches herself by holding on to his arm, her face still turned back to the crowd in the living room. He waits until she's standing on her own, looking at him with a little bit of confusion and curiosity, running a hand through her hair.

Kate had a moment today, but she pulled out of it; she *is* healing. But he still has trouble getting that image out of his mind, her body dark on the green grass, the stain of blood against her white gloves, the light dimming in her eyes, the life leaving her body.

He's tried not to panic and freak out and cling to her these past few months. When she said she needed the solitude of her father's cabin for those first six weeks, he gave it to her. He showed up almost every day, of course, and often slept in the twin bed next to hers, but she spent a lot of time in the sun room, warmed by the light heating up the room and letting him rattle on about nothing beside her.

He couldn't write.

When he finally convinved her to recouperate at his place in the Hamptons, there was a lot of therapy sessions and behind closed doors crying, a lot of 'don't, Castle' and 'let me do this, Castle.'

He managed to finish the book and it's many edits in that short space of time. The book is due to hit the stores soon, but he's not sure how much he even likes it. As depressing a place as it was to be in his head those summer months, he's pretty certain that leaked out all over the page. Separation from Kate physically and emotionally equaled separation for Nikki and Rook.

But he's not sure he can keep his distance any more.

Watching her with the baby. . .

He still gets visions of their child, the one that never happened; it's hard to shake.

"Rick?" she says gently, and it pulls him back to the present.

"I have something I need to give you," he says, moving back around his desk and opening the bottom drawer.

Kate walks towards the desk, leans a hip against it. "Yeah?"

He pulls out the plastic bag, unfurls it. He can't look at her while he does this. He just. . .it's all he can do to reach inside and pull out the box.

He hears her ragged breath in and her fingers reach out to take it from him. The unopened pregnancy test she gave him almost a year ago.

"I'm cashing in, Kate." He has to pause to steady his hands against the desktop. "I want it now. With you. I want to see you holding our kids, our babies. Before it's too late. Before we don't have any time left and-"

"Castle," she murmurs.

"You said I'd know. You trusted me to know. And I know. I know we're ready. Kate-"

She traps his words with her mouth, her body leaning across the desk to meet his where it can, points of hot contact that knock him senseless. He feels her rise above him suddenly, realizes she's craweled up on his desktop on her knes, her hands cradling his face.

He breaks with a gasp, blinking hard, certain he was being rejected and dismissed only to now find her eyes brilliant and intense on his.

"I thought you were going to marry me first," she breathes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Heartlines**

by **Sandiane Carter**, and **chezchuckles**

* * *

><p>Beth hugs Lucie one more time at the door of the loft, trying to get over how good it feels to have her friend here, in New York. Lucie laughs, but she hugs back.<p>

"You trying to smother me here, Liz?"

Beth groans at the nickname, out of habit more than anything else, because she's long grown used to it.

She lets go of her friend at last, secretly admiring those big dark eyes, the flawless skin and the sharp cheekbones, the happy smile. Lucie's beautiful. And looking coy as she leans in to whisper in Beth's ear, "So, that fiancé of yours? Yummy."

Beth laughs, presses three fingers to her mouth as if to soften the too-bright sound. Which is silly, because even though it's well after midnight, it's not like Castle has neighbours on his floor she could be disturbing.

"Yeah?" She arches an eyebrow, daring Lucie to say more.

"Uh-huh," her friend hums, with a crooked little grin. "He doesn't have a brother, does he?"

"No," Beth chuckles. "Only son. Sorry."

Lucie gives a dramatic sigh. "You always get the good ones."

Regret fills her dark eyes before the last word is even out of her mouth; she reaches out, grabs Beth's hand.

"I didn't mean –"

"Hey, don't," Beth says softly, squeezing Lucie's cool fingers. "I've forgotten all about him. I have Alex now."

And silly as it sounds, that's true. Alex Conrad is all that matters now, Alex and the way he looks at her, jokes with her, goes out of his way to make her laugh (even though it's not very difficult).

Alex makes her happy without even trying, but he tries anyway.

"I'm so happy for you," Lucie whispers, and this time she's the one to crush Beth into a hug, to kiss her cheek. French style. "So happy. You deserve it, Beth."

"Ditto," the woman murmurs back.

And as impatient as she is to get back inside, find Alex, and kiss him senseless, Beth lets the moment linger. It's so close to perfect – her best friend in her arms, the gentle light of the loft pouring into the hallway, the voices of her family in the background.

The man she loves waiting for her inside.

She closes her eyes, and hangs on to it for a little longer.

* * *

><p>Alex is in the kitchen, washing the last of the glasses. Beth leans into the wall and watches him for a few seconds, enjoying the way his shoulders work under his blue shirt. He's not a very large man; in fact, most people would probably call him lean.<p>

But *she* knows what muscles are hidden under the fabric. Biting on her lower lip, Beth tiptoes closer, her bare feet meeting the floor without a sound. She loves to sneak up on him.

And Alex never disappoints. He jumps when she throws her arms around his waist, curses as he almost drops the glass, and she can't help a triumphant laugh. She presses her lips to his neck, a warm and open-mouthed kiss, until she feels him relax against her.

"Beth," he sighs. The tone is probably meant as reproachful, but the breathlessness in it kind of ruins the effect.

"Hmm," she hums against his skin, her tongue venturing out on reconnaissance.

He shivers violently, rests his hands against the sink for support. She loves how easily she can get to him.

"Beth? Let me –" he sucks in a startled breath when she nips at his skin – "Let me rinse and dry these two glasses, will you? I'm... Ah... I'm almost finished."

"Yeah you are," she answers, her voice dark and heavy with meaning.

He lets out a soft sound of need, and she has to gather the pieces of her control to step away, let him finish as he asked.

But she does, and leans against the wall, hands clasped behind her back. She'll be good.

For now.

Alex clears his throat, and she grins. He doesn't even bother to hide it. He's not one of those men who'd rather die than show weakness; no, Alex lays it all out for her to see. So open and trusting.

Gratitude is making her sappy.

"So," he says somewhat nervously, unaware that he's rescuing her with his words. "Did you like James and Shelby?"

"Yeah," she answers with a smile. "They were really nice. And funny, too. And J.R. is probably one of the cutest babies on the planet."

"Yeah, I think he takes after his godfather," Alex replies with mock satisfaction.

"Oh?" Beth echoes laughingly. "And how exactly did your genes travel to his little body? I'm curious."

"It's not about genes, woman," Alex shakes his head in despair. He stops the water, wipes his hands on the dishtowel. "It's about...inspiration."

"Inspiration? What is that supposed to mean? That J.R. is taking inspiration from you?"

"Exactly," Alex exclaims, obviously pleased that she's found him a way out. He beams and points his finger at her. "Exactly. See? You understand."

She frees one of her hands and snatches said finger. "Don't you point your finger at me, Alex Conrad."

"No?" He murmurs, crowding her against the wall. He's taller than her, though only by a couple of inches. Beth loves him towering above her, loves the thrill of anticipation that spreads in her belly. "Am I allowed to point other things at you?"

His lips are brushing hers, but she bursts out laughing against his mouth, unable to help herself. "Really? _Really_? That's the line you chose?" She exclaims, delighted. Not even his offended pout can make her stop. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Conrad, but I have to say, for a writer –"

He doesn't let her finish that sentence, silencing her with his mouth, demanding and a little rough. Oh yeah, she thinks as she opens up to him, feels her back collide with the wall. Yeah. Make me pay for that.

She moans into his lips when he weighs against her, closes her eyes at the delicious pressure on her breasts, the way his hips push into hers. Her arms wind around his neck of their own accord, her fingers digging into his skull, drawing him closer if she can.

"Oh, Beth, honey," he breathes when he breaks away from her lips, only to dip his head and feast on the exposed skin of her neck.

She arches against him, needy now, gasping and thrumming under his touch. Honey? She drops her hands from his hair to his waist, starts working on his shirt. Skin. She wants skin.

Skin, and the lines of his abs, the wild pounding of his heart.

Wants him naked on top of her –

She lifts a knee to wrap around his thigh, savors the low growl in his chest, the responsive, abrasive tug of his teeth.

"Beth," he says, child-like awe in his voice. Like it's their first time.

His strong hands splay at her sides, lift her up; she circles his waist with her legs, her body buzzing at the desired contact. His mouth is caressing her ear as he walks them to the stairs, undertakes the perilous climb.

He falters once, and she cries out in surprise before laughing, and tightening her hold on him. Which probably doesn't help.

She brushes her lips against his closed lids, moved by the effort he makes to steady himself, and he smiles, a slow, happy smile.

She kisses the dimple on his cheek.

When they get to the top of the stairs, she slides off him, ignoring the disappointed noise he makes at the back of his throat. She presses her mouth to his, firm and quick, takes his hand to lead him to their bedroom. It was once Martha's, long ago, but Beth has sort of claimed it as her own when she's here.

She's focused on Alex, his fingers warm and tender around hers, the ragged breaths that make her heart beat faster, and it's sheer luck that she hears the tiny sob as they pass Alexis's bedroom.

Beth pauses, signals her fiancé to keep silent. She doesn't hear anything else, and she's starting to move away when Alexis – who else would it be? – blows her nose as quietly as she can behind the closed door.

Damn it. Beth hesitates, looks at Alex and his shining eyes, dark with arousal. He pulls her into him, a loose embrace, and rests his cheek against her hair.

"Go," he says. "Go to her."

Her love unfolds inside her, a swan opening its wings.

"You'll wait for me?" She asks teasingly, nuzzling his cheek, his nose.

He steps back to look into her eyes, so serious and tender at once. Beth chews on her lip, unwilling to let emotion get the better of her, yet unable to help it. Alex lays a palm on the side of her neck, his thumb tracing her jaw.

"My wife," he murmurs, and his voice is disbelief and joy, impatience and determination.

Her words die in her throat, all of them – she can only rise on tiptoe, seal their mouths together, let her tongue whisper her secrets.

_I love you_.

* * *

><p>The laptop rests open on her desk, but Alexis drifts to her bed, lying back on her pillows and staring at the ceiling. She's not sure why, but things still feel. . .in shambles.<p>

There's a knock on the door and then it pops open, no boundaries, and it could be Kate or Beth - they do that the same - coming right in regardless. Alexis swipes at her face and rubs her eyes before sitting up.

But it's Beth. So it's okay. She gives Beth a watery smile and clears her throat, tries to push past the way things feel so ragged.

"Hey, StepCastle. What're you doing?" Beth sinks onto the foot of Alexis's bed and wraps her hands around Alexis's ankles. Rubs little circles. Beth pulls her feet up under to sit cross-legged on the bed, watching Alexis.

The girl gestures to the computer. "Just waiting on Ashley to finally show up." She rolls her eyes, but her voice breaks.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry," Beth whispers and leans forward to take Alexis by the shoulders in a tight, warm hug.

Shoot. There it goes. Alexis sucks in a choked breath and hears her tears give way, can't stop them. And it's not even really about Ashley.

"I know. I know how it feels. I'm so sorry," Beth murmurs, rubbing her back and playing with her hair.

Alexis breaks from her and tries to scrub away the waterfall that's pouring out of her eyes. "This is silly. It's not that big of a deal."

"If you're crying, it's a big deal."

"No. I don't even care, really. I mean. When we skype it's so lame. He spends the whole time talking to people coming in and out of his dorm, or doing some lame prank on his suitemates. I mean - we don't even get to talk. He'll like turn to me and try to include me in whatever injoke they've got, but it just doesn't work."

"You know, it sounds like he's trying to show off for you. Impress you with his studly college-ness."

Alexis snorts and shakes her head, taking a moment to swipe her eyes again. "Not impressed."

"Well, did he miss it tonight?"

"Yeah. And last night. And he was an hour late the night before. So I just. . .I'm so tired of it. But I feel like if I *don't* wait, then it somehow becomes my fault."

"That sucks, Alexis. It's not how it's supposed to go. There should be some respect. I-"

Alexis lifts her eyebrows and waits but Beth blushes and shakes her head.

"I'm kinda lecturing you here. My bad. I should've just stuck with 'that sucks' and left it at that."

"No. It's okay. I know all this. I mean, Dad basically told me the same thing last night. That I can't be waiting around for him. And really, that's not. . .I'm resigned to it. It's just how my life is going right now. Just when I need him most, he's not here."

Alexis rubs at her forehead, can't get this stuff out of her head, the way the screaming resounds even when it's quiet. Just when she needs him, and he's nowhere to be found. He's the one that she wants to hug; he's the one who she could talk to and make everything fit again, put all the pieces back.

Beth slides an arm around Alexis's neck and tugs her closer. Alexis falls into Beth and wraps her arms around the woman's waist.

"Okay, so you wanna tell me what's really going on then?"

Alexis push her face into Beth's neck and can't stop the sob that takes her by surprise. Beth clutches her tighter and brushes her hand down Alexis's hair. It's enough to calm some of the storm in her, because she knows that Beth was there, Beth understands.

"I shouldn't be crying into your shoulder when you're getting married in less than two weeks," Alexis says with a sigh, lifting her head to look at her. . .what? A friend. An aunt?

"You do what you need to do, little sister. Tell me what's going on."

The moniker makes her warm, but Alexis sighs and shakes her head, still cuddled into Beth's side where it feels good, comforting. "It's just. Everyone else has figured it out. Has gotten over it and gone back to daily life. But I haven't. I can't. I have. . .these terrible dreams. And I wake up and lie here in the dark and text Ashley and he doesn't answer and there's no one else who gets it, what that did to us, how bad it was-"

"You mean. Kate getting shot." Beth is quiet now, her fingers rub circles over Alexis's shoulder and it feels nice. It's soothing and she doesn't even know why.

"Yeah."

"Sweetheart, none of us are over it. None of us have it figured out. Least of all Kate, I think."

Alexis feels her lips twisting with a grief she can't contain, squeezes her eyes shut and tries to keep it back. "I just. It's so easy to lose everything. So easy for Kate to never come back again and I don't - I can't - she means too much."

Alexis chews on the inside of her lip even as her chin quivers, the burn of tears in her eyes again. Beth wipes at her own cheek and now Alexis feels guilty for totally bringing her down.

"Yeah," Beth says with a quick nod, then wraps her fingers around the girl's neck, drops a kiss to her forehead. "I lost my mom when I was about your age. It's the worst; it never - it doesn't-" She sighs. "It's not fair. It sucks and it's not fair, but you get to a place where you realize you've lived with it. You've made it this far and you can keep making it. And if Kate. . ."

"I'm sorry, never mind. Forget it," Alexis says hurriedly, hating herself for bringing it up now. Of course Beth is thinking about her mother; of course she misses Johanna now, when she's about to get married. "I didn't mean-"

"Kate was shot," Beth says gently, firmly. "Kate almost died. We don't have to pretend it didn't happen, Lex. We face it, and then make a change, so that there are no regrets, nothing we might be upset for if she doesn't, if it-"

"Yeah, but-" Alexis says softly, able to pull away a little, sit on her own. Beth takes her hand and squeezes, but waits on her. "Yeah, I wish. . .Tonight, you know how we were all sitting around the table, and how good that was. . .how. . .how everything seemed good and right?"

Beth gives her a bright and happy smile. "Yeah. Yeah it did."

"I didn't have that before. Before Kate, and you, and now Alex too. It was me and Dad. My Mom's not really. . .someone to count on. And then Grams came to live with us a couple of years, and that helped, that was good. But with Kate - everything opened up. Not just this family, but even the guys at the 12th. They made my dad a part of that family, and me by extension. And if Kate died, what. . .what would we have?"

"You have me no matter what," Beth says fiercely. "But you know, you *know* that Kate's a fighter. Kate's the strongest woman I know and she'd do anything to get back to her family. You know that."

Alexis nods, but being strong doesn't mean you come home alive. She's not stupid. Not any more. She saw her father tackle Kate in the cemetery, heard the rush of the bullet after the fact, the blood, the darkness even in the bright sunlight.

"When we were downstairs, Kate spent most of the night holding little J.R., you know? She didn't want to, but-"

Beth laughs. "Ha. Oh, hilarious. Shelby was sooo glad to have a break. I know."

Alexis can't exactly laugh yet, but she does smile, sniffs a little to keep her voice clear. "She got stuck with him; she fed him his bottle and she. . .she just looked right doing it. I never would've thought it would looks so right. Never would have thought she wanted kids. But she does, doesn't she?"

Beth gives a shakier laugh, filled with a meaning Alexis doesn't understand. "She does. Yes."

Alexis nods. "And my dad-" Her voice cracks and she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, sucks in a breath, has to center herself before she can go on. "My dad loves kids; he's so good at it. He's so good. And I know he wants kids with Kate. I know he does. But they almost lost that. Entirely. The little family they might make, the babies they'll have - gone."

Beth sighs softly and reaches out to Alexis again. She lets herself melt into Beth, unable to stop it now.

"Beth - It's not just Kate we lose. We lose everything with her."

"I know. I know, Lex." Beth wraps her tighter and it doesn't seem to do any good. There are all these pieces inside, all the jagged edges, like she herself has been shot and it won't heal up right. "You need to talk to Kate about this, sweetheart."

"No," she wails, and it breaks open, all of it, the wound weeping.

"Okay, okay," Beth hums, murmuring into her hair. "All right, Lex. It's okay, baby. It's okay."

"I can't. I can't, please don't tell Kate-"

"Baby, you need to tell her this. You need to let *her* hold you and listen, because that's the only way to get it off your chest."

"Please don't tell, Kate," she whispers, trying to struggle away, trying to control herself again. She untangles herself from Beth and uses her shirt to soak up the stupid, crazy tears she can't stop. "It's just not having Ashley and seeing Kate holding the baby tonight and I just. . .don't tell Kate."

Beth looks at her long and hard, but there's a tenderness in her face that rips open the wound in Alexis again. She has to clench her fists and dig her nails into her palm, let the sharp sting of it focus her.

"Lex. Remember last year when your Dad called for a group hug? He said we're family. All of us."

Alexis glances down at her clenched fists. "Yeah."

"That means you and Kate are just as much family as you and me, or me and Kate. Do you believe that?"

No. Alexis looks away from Beth, focuses on the now-dark screen of her laptop on her desk. Tries to keep it together.

Beth sighs. "You and Kate are family. You love her. I know you do. This proves it. Don't you think she loves you too? Why do you think I tease her so much about it, Alexis? Because being vulnerable to someone else isn't easy for her, and it's super fun for me to mess with her about it."

Alexis huffs a laugh and glances back to Beth. "I do love her. But Dad. . .I'm kind of a package deal with Dad. So she has to-"

Beth tightens her grip on Alexis's wrists, narrows her eyes. "Don't short-change my sister, Little Castle. Katie goes all out. Don't you know that by now?"

Alexis presses her lips together, but Beth is right. It is kind of. . .rude to assume that Kate is *forced* to love her. You can't force Kate to do anything. "Yeah."

"So I'm going to give it tonight. And then sometime tomorrow, I'm going to talk to my sister about this, Alexis. If you don't tell her first; I'll tell her. Okay?"

Alexis chews on her lip and glances down to her bedspread, takes in a shaky breath. "Okay."

"Okay," Beth says softly, then wraps her arms around Alexis and that-

that does make it seem better.

A little.

* * *

><p>When Kate makes it to the kitchen the next morning, leaving Castle behind to finish showering, alone, she finds her sister and Alex already making breakfast together, all those little touches and soft comments between them.<p>

She remembers that. Actually, she probably still does that. Castle does at least, and sometimes he works her into it.

"Hey guys," she says, clearing her throat so they know she's there.

Beth doesn't drop her hands from Alex's waist, but Alex flushes and stops messing around, gives Kate a quick look. "Hey Kate."

Beth sighs and sticks her tongue out at her sister. "You're ruining my fun."

Kate laughs and sniffs the air. "You're making enough for everyone? Because I'm starving."

"Oh, Kate-" Alexis pauses on the stairs, shooting a look to Beth who has some kind of look back. Kate can't understand their little secret conversations half the time anyway, so she brushes it off and reaches out a hand to Castle's daughter.

"Hey, Lex. They're making us breakfast. Hungry?"

Alexis slides cold fingers into Kate's, sidles up next to her. Kate gives her a long look, her cop instinct flaring to life, then glances over at Beth, asking silent questions. Her sister quirks an eyebrow and Kate takes that to mean _Later._

"We made enough for everyone, yeah. But I have to leave in five minutes for French lab at NYU. Alex is walking me to work."

"Ah, what are you doing after that, Alex?"

"Meeting up with my mom for some last minute wedding stuff. Beth refuses to care about the seating arrangements but my mom is in a tizzy."

Kate and Alexis both laugh with Beth, imagining Elise worked up about it, then Castle comes through the living room and drops a hand on Kate's shoulder, another on Alexis's. Both women turn to him; Kate watches the anxious eagerness on Alexis's face, soothed by her father's kiss to the girl's forehead.

Kate gets a soft brush of lips to hers, smiles into it because she can feel his vibrating joy, but lets him go before damage can be done. They're not going to say anything, since it's still just talk, and Kate wants the two weeks to be about her sister.

Castle's eyes meet hers, and the delicious thrill of having a shared secret makes her stomach flutter.

"Okay, it's done. Serve yourselves guys." Beth nudges Alex out of the way and pulls down plates, grabs forks. Alexis gets up to help, and while the three of them are clustered around the stove, Kate pushes in close to Rick, slides her arms around his waist.

"Morning," she murmurs, standing on her tiptoes to gain some height.

"Morning. Again," he says back, and places a longer kiss on her mouth, easing her open. She dives into it, hands sliding up his sides, but lets him go when he breaks away. "I'm gonna have trouble keeping my hands off you today."

Kate grins back at him. No need to tell him it's the same for her. He'd *really* have trouble then. "Breakfast. Then I have to go to work. You could stay here-"

"Hell, no," he murmurs, lifting an eyebrow.

Pleasure floods through her, but she turns away from Castle and forces herself to grab a plate.

Beth and Alex are already wolfing down their breakfast, messing with each other as they stand to eat. Beth finishes first, drops her plate in the sink even as Kate is filling hers up. Her sister gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, whispering in her ear, "Talk to Alexis."

And then she's gone, heading for the door, calling out to Alex to hurry up. Her fiance is muttering something about being rushed, but he rinses his plate off and puts it in the dishwasher, does the same for Beth's, and leaves the rest of them to their breakfast.

"You need to plan this out better," he says to her, shoving his feet into his shoes by the door as Beth slides on her coat.

"Sorry, the impromptu sex this morning threw us off schedule," Beth laughs at him.

Alex turns the deepest shade of crimson that Kate has ever seen, and refuses to look behind him as Beth calls out her good-byes. Alexis is laughing, Castle is laughing, and Kate gives her sister a long, amused look.

"Bye, Katie. See you tomorrow."

"Bye Beth. Don't kill the poor guy, okay?"

"You can't die of embarrassment," Beth rolls her eyes, opening the door.

Alex huffs at her. "I beg to differ."

The two disappear out the door, shutting it with a resounding noise that makes the kitchen seem smaller and quieter for the two of them being gone.

Castle claps his hands together. "Well. Let's eat, family."

"There better have been a comma in there," Alexis says, regaining some of her teasing nature after Beth and Alex's departure. She looks relieved, and Kate wonders again at her.

"There was a comma!" Castle whines at her and sits down at the bar with his full plate. "Don't you have school or something, grammar-nazi?"

Alexis laughs back at her dad, sitting beside him as well. Kate sticks with just the scrambled eggs, pops a couple peices of bread in the toaster, her hip against the counter to wait for it.

"Not having biscuits?" Castle asks.

She shakes her head. She *has* healed, but her stomach still isn't right after the emergency surgery. Anything too heavy. . .she can't handle it. Toast is better.

"Want some?" she asks him, nodding to the toaster.

"Nah. I got biscuits. Is there jelly in the fridge?"

"It's right here, Dad," Alexis says, hopping up to grab it off the counter and hand it to her father.

At Castle's look, Kate snorts. "Alexis, you're just making him lazy. He knew that."

Castle laughs, throwing her a look, and Alexis slaps his shoulder. "Dad."

"She's right. I knew it. But I thought Kate would bring it back with her."

"Think again," Kate says, narrowing her eyes at him. The toaster pops out her two pieces, and she grabs them quickly, dropping them to her plate. When she comes back around the island, she does get the butter and ketchup from the fridge and put them at his place.

Castle gives her a sweet look, smiling. "Thanks."

She presses a kiss to his cheek in lieu of rolling her eyes - again - and sits down on his other side. "Hey, have you given much thought to what we're getting Beth and Alex for a wedding present?"

He shoots her a careful look, as if he's masking his surprise, but a kind of hopeful delight is on his face. "Yeah. Some. Why? Did you have an idea for what. . .we could give them?"

Oh.

Kate blinks and sits stunned for a moment. He thought. . .he's surprised that they're giving Beth a wedding present together. Together. It's the 'we' that got him.

Shit. She's really messed this up, hasn't she? _Talk to Alexis._ It's not just his daughter she's got to reconnect with, remind that she's still alive, but it's Castle as well. She spent six weeks being as solitary and alone as she could possibly be, as withdrawn and closed off as she could make herself (even with Castle there almost every day), and that's taken a toll on them. On her *family.*

She didn't see that coming.

But Beth, back to Beth first. "I had an idea," she says quickly, trying to push past that moment. "It's. . .sort of a present for you too."

She lifts an eyebrow at him, suddenly so very glad this came to her last night. Castle needs this as much as Beth and Alex. Maybe more so.

"It. . .is?"

Alexis leans forward. "Is this something I can legally hear?"

Kate laughs, shooting a grateful smile to his daughter, glad she's there. "It's not R-rated. Plus you're 18 and in high school. What could *I* possibly say that you haven't heard before?"

Castle immediately points his fork at Alexis, then at Kate, attempting a stern look. "No. Not-uh. I don't want to hear it. You are still my adorable little girl, and you - Kate Beckett - won't be corrupting her with your wild ways."

"Too late," Alexis says, shaking her head in mock condolence.

Kate laughs again, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle it when Castle gives her another look. "No, no, don't worry. No corrupting going on. I probably just scared the shit out of you guys this summer, but hopefully that doesn't ever happen again."

Even as she says it, she knows she probably shouldn't, that she's not been this cavalier about it in front of them. Gallows humor works best at the precinct, and Alexis might not be strong enough to handle-

But Alexis gives her a surprised, relieved look and takes a long sighing breath. "Yeah. You did."

Castle is very still between them for a moment, then he puts his fork down and looks first at his daughter - they share something then - and turns his head back to Kate, gratitude in his eyes.

"So what's your big idea?"

She's pleased with herself for somehow repairing something - a thing she can't name or see, a thing that's been blocking the way between herself and them. Kate smiles wider at him and digs into her pants pocket for her keys.

She starts working a key off the ring even as she talks. "Well, you know Beth lives with that crazy artist girl in the studio apartment-"

"She *is* crazy," Alexis interrupts heatedly. "Did you know that the reason Beth and Alex keep staying over here is because that girl keeps asking Alex to pose nude for her?"

Kate fumbles the key with her laughter, meeting Castle's eyes. She's told him before about modeling nude once; his face is dark and aroused with knowledge. And then it's gone. "Well that's proof there's no corrupting," he murmurs, lifting an eyebrow at her.

She bites her lip, tries to glare but fails. "Anyway, I asked Beth if they were looking for a place, but you know Beth. She's just. . .last minute about everything. I bet Alex is looking into it, but-"

Castle shakes his head. "He hasn't started yet. He told me the other day at the precinct that the rings were first on his list, and an apartment was way down there."

"Okay, well perfect. Because-" Kate finally draws the key off and puts in on the counter between them. She sees the understanding dawn on Castle's face, feels her chest fill at the sight. "Because I want to give them my apartment."


	4. Chapter 4

**Heartlines**

by Sandiane Carter and chezchuckles

* * *

><p>She wants to –<p>

Wow.

_Wow._

Castle feels the grin pulling at his lips even as he struggles to comprehend the idea, not because it's not a good one – it's an *excellent* idea – but because it means...so much.

So damn much. He can hardly believe it.

Kate Beckett, willing to give away her back-up plan? To work without a safety net? Emotion chokes him, drowns his words.

From the look on Alexis's face, she realizes exactly how much this means. But his daughter recovers faster than he does, clasps her hands together as she exclaims, "Oh my god, Kate, this is. . .this is _so_ perfect."

She jumps to her feet and pulls the detective into a feverish hug, giggling in excitement and then saying, "Oh, Beth is gonna be *so* happy. She loves that place. Maybe we could – maybe we could re-decorate it for her? If you're okay with it, of course, or if you even have time, but I remember her mentioning once that she would _love_ red walls, and I have these ideas for some paintings that she would totally love, that would suit them both–"

Alexis babbles on but Rick isn't really listening; Kate is looking at him over his daughter's shoulder, the line of her mouth set, determined, though there's a question in her eyes.

This is for you, she seems to say. Is that enough? Does it make up for last summer?

He finally gets to his feet, slowly, because he's not so sure his legs will support him. He takes a tentative step – everything seems to be working – and then skirts the table to join in the family hug, an arm sneaking around Kate's waist while the other lands on Alexis's shoulders.

He brushes a kiss to the corner of Kate's mouth, to her cheekbone, her ear, and he rests his forehead to her temple, eyes closed in silent thanks.

God, he's so lucky. *So* lucky.

"What do you think, Dad?" Alexis asks animatedly, breaking his grateful trance.

He finds his voice, smiles at her, at both of them.

"I think it's an excellent idea," he agrees, trying to keep the bliss out of his voice. Or well, to tone it down, anyway. Kate is biting her lip, her eyes bright, and he wants nothing more than to kiss her breathless. _Kate, Kate, Kate_.

"Maybe decorating it would be too much, though?" Alexis worries, pushing her hair back and looking at the detective. "I mean, I know I sometimes get carried away –"

"No," Kate says slowly, her thinking face on. He loves this, the fact that she can step back, give his daughter her full attention when all he can think of is dragging her back to bed. "No, I think. . .If you feel that you have a good idea of what she might want, Alexis, it'd be a wonderful surprise. Of course, we probably wouldn't have time to do it all, but we could rearrange the kitchen and the living room, leave the rest to them?"

"Oh, yes. Yes. That would be perfect."

Castle tears his eyes away from Kate, looks at his daughter. She seems so excited, her blue eyes lively and sparkling, her mouth half-open as she thinks – he can almost see the possible changes to Kate's apartment nudging each other in her brain.

It's been a while since he's seen her so happy.

This might be just what Alexis needs. To spend time alone with Kate, to make her peace with what could have happened, what didn't happen. And to accept that Kate's alive, is still here, and will stick around.

Kate must be thinking along the same lines, because she says, "Actually, Alexis. Do you want to go over there tonight, when I get off work? I'm not sure how long it might take and we we've got a little less than two weeks."

His chest swells; he's not sure he can ever find words to express how much he loves her.

Alexis looks surprised and delighted; she glances at him before agreeing eagerly.

"Yes, of course. Just – text me, and I'll meet you at the precinct."

"Done," Kate smiles, and she hooks an arm around the teenager's neck, brushes a kiss to her red hair. "Speaking of. Castle, are you done? We should probably get going. Better not displease Iron Gates if we can help it."

"The boys rubbing off on you?" He quirks an eyebrow, alluding to the nickname that Beckett has refused to use so far.

She shrugs. "Just...appropriate."

He's certainly not going to object, not when Gates seems to have made hating and blaming him her priority in life.

He gives a quick hug to his daughter, relief washing over him at the light shining on her young face.

"Have fun at school, sweetheart."

"See you tonight?" Alexis asks, her smile wide and beautiful.

"I don't know if I'm invited," he answers with fake hesitation. He's actually not sure he should come. This seems a lot like girls' time.

"If you ask nicely, Castle," Kate shoots back from the bedroom, "We might be able to find a use for you."

He meets his daughter's laughing eyes.

"Lucky me."

* * *

><p>Beth Beckett laughs out loud when she gets Alex's text. She's waiting at a crosswalk, and an old lady glances at her like she doubts Beth's mental health, but the young woman couldn't care less.<p>

The screen of her phone is empty save for one word: _Help._

She checks the time – 3pm – and concludes that Elise must have taken him hostage, asking his opinion about the color of the napkins, or the arrangement of the flowers, or (who knows?) the opening of the windows. Elise, for all her friendliness and loveliness, can be a little...obsessive about details.

_On my way_, she texts back when she's on the other side of the street. Elise doesn't live in New York City, but she has a friend who does, Anna, whom she knows from high school. So she's been staying at Anna's for the last few days, and has established her headquarters there. Anna is unmarried, but she doesn't seem to mind her friend's planning. Which Beth finds rather generous, considering the level of excitement Elise can reach when working on wedding preparations.

The apartment is only fifteen minutes away, and the warm sun makes the walk very enjoyable. The weather has been wonderful lately, Beth thinks as she lifts her face up, wanting to absorb as much sunlight as she can.

It's not autumn yet, though it's only a matter of weeks. Beth is resolutely a summer girl; she loves the heat, the light, the colorful dresses. Everything just seems so much...brighter. There are little things that she enjoys about every season – the orange and red of the leaves in the fall, the crisp air of a sunny winter day, the way every flower blooms back to life in the spring – but still, summer's always been her favorite.

She reaches Anna's building, types in the security code and pushes on the door when it buzzes its approval.

The elevator doesn't work, which is no real trouble since only two flights of stairs separate her from Anna's door. She can hear Elise's voice, muffled but quite loud, as soon as she reaches the landing.

"No, see, we can't put your Aunt Linda and Gran next to each other – they will drive each other crazy before dinner is over. But if we put Linda at our table. . ."

Beth bites back a smile, knocks on the door. There's some rustling inside, and then Anna comes to open the door.

"Hello, Beth," she greets with a smile. Then she adds in a whisper, arching an eyebrow, "Come to rescue your fiancé?"

Beth winks, containing her laughter, and decides once more that she really likes this woman. Anna is shorter than her by a few inches, but she's lean, and she radiates energy. Even though she's only fifty-five, her grey hair is streaked with white, but the way she wears it makes it look fashionable instead of old.

She takes Beth's jacket as the young woman steps inside, nods towards the living room.

"You know where to find them."

Beth thanks her, takes a deep breath, and ventures onto the battlefield.

The table is covered in lists, samples, menus from different caterers – you can no longer tell the color of the tablecloth underneath. The large map that Elise made for the sitting arrangements has been spread on the floor, and Alex's mom is on her knees next to it, a focused expression on her face.

Alex himself is standing some feet away, looking mournful; unbridled relief lights up his eyes when he sees her.

"Beth," he smiles, coming to press a light kiss to her lips. He uses the opportunity to whisper in her ear, "Thank God you're here."

She links their hands together, lifts them to her mouth so she can kiss the back of his.

"Oh, Beth! You're here. Wonderful," Elise exclaims, her voice almost too cheerful.

"Hi, Elise. How are the seating arrangements going?"

"Good, good. Better, I think. Not quite perfect yet, but – nearly there. Speaking of which, I think you mentioned that your dad and Mrs. Rodgers know each other, right?"

"Hm, yeah?"

"So...Do you think they'd want to sit at the same table? Because so far your dad is at ours, of course, but there are no seats left for Mrs. Rodgers, and I thought –"

"Oh, Elise, don't trouble yourself so much," Beth interrupts, trying not to laugh. She squeezes Alex's hand in sympathy for what he must have been going through. He got here pretty early today too. "Really, it'll be fine. Martha is a social person, so whatever table she finds herself at, you can be sure she'll make the most of it. Actually, if you have a table with a single man in his sixties..."

"Oh?" Elise flashes her a surprised look, but seems rather pleased. "I do have that. Remember, Alex, I didn't know who to put next to your Uncle Jeffrey?"

Alex is staring at the wall with the face of a man who will suffer through the trials bravely and without complaint. Beth presses her lips together. _Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh._

Elise writes Martha's name with a triumphant flourish at the specified seat, and gets back to her feet to fumble through the papers scattered over the table.

"It's good you're here now, Beth dear. I've been meaning to ask you – let me just see if I can find this..."

Alex's hand tightens on hers; Beth looks up questioningly, but he's staring at his mother, an unhappy look on his face.

"There it is!" Elise says, digging out a brochure.

"Mom," her son says, a warning in his voice.

"What, darling? Look, I can't see what's wrong with asking –"

"Mom, we *talked* about this –"

Beth is not sure what's going on, but she's never heard him so defensive. Angry. Elise shrugs it off, takes a step toward Beth.

"See, Beth, I was thinking, with this absolutely lovely weather we've been having, it doesn't make much sense to have an indoor wedding. I mean, the place you've been looking at is very nice, of course, and I understand it might not be easy to change it at such short notice, but I have this brochure about this place – what's it called – oh, the Boathouse. It has this lovely garden – look – with flowers and everything, and wouldn't that..."

Elise's voice trails off when she looks up at Beth's face, clearly put off by what she sees there. Beth doesn't know what's on her face, only knows she's had to step back, physically step back, because she can't – it's not –

This is not up for discussion. Elise means well, she tells herself, she doesn't know, doesn't know the reasons why it has to be indoors. But it *has* to.

The sniper is still out there. The man who knelt down in the grass of a sunlit cemetery, took careful aim, and attempted to end her sister's life. Beth's throat tightens, the air in her lungs making itself scarce.

The sound of the shot, Rick pushing Kate to the grass - too late, too late - the screaming – _Beckett's down_...

Beth presses her lips together, tries to hold everything inside, the rattling fear, the emptiness, the tears. That can't happen again. It _cannot_ happen again.

Not at her wedding. Not ever.

Indoors it will be.

When Beth slowly comes back to herself, Alex is speaking in hushed tones to his mother, his vehemence warming Beth's chilled heart. Elise looks ashamed and cuts her eyes to Beth, a trembling smile to her lips.

"I'm sorry, dear. I didn't want to upset you. I'm...I get a little carried away. This is your wedding, both of you. Do as you see fit."

And she disappears into the kitchen with Anna, leaving Alex alone with Beth.

"What did you tell her?" Beth asks. She's not sure why; she doesn't really want to know.

Alex seems to understand that. Instead of answering, he draws her into his arms, wraps himself around her. She wonders for a second why he's shaking, then realizes. It's her, not him.

She buries her nose into his shirt, squeezes her arms around his waist.

Alex rocks her against him, slow and steady, murmurs against her ear.

She loves his voice. It's deep and soothing, rich. She smiles when she remembers the first night he played the guitar for her, the night when she realized how talented a singer he was.

The night when she realized that maybe, maybe, she was in love with him.

"It'll be okay, honey," he murmurs, lips brushing her temple. "I promise, Beth. It will all be okay."

And she believes him.

* * *

><p>When Castle gets back to the loft, he doesn't expect to see her keys in the bowl and her shoes at the door.<p>

Alexis is coming down the stairs with a box of stuff from the storage closet; he can smell paint thinner. "Hey, Daddy."

He quirks his lips at her little girl voice and takes the box from her, lets her get down the stairs. "What're you doing here?"

"Getting some supplies. Also, Lucie called and said her dress didn't fit right, so Kate and Lucie had to meet up and switch dresses."

"Oh. Kate's where then?"

"Trying on Lucie's dress, in the bathroom I think. Dad, do you think Kate minds doing this? I mean, I kinda jumped all over it, but it's her gift to Beth and I-"

"I think, pumpkin, that it's our family's gift to Beth." He slides his arm along her shoulders and pulls her into his side in a swift hug. "You get it?"

"Oh," Alexis says softly, laying her head on his shoulder. Castle turns slightly and drops the box by the door, hearing stuff rattle ominously, then draws his daughter into a tighter hug, his chin on her head.

"You and I haven't really had any kind of real conversation about this, have we?"

"About the wedding?"

In a manner of speaking. "I mean me and Kate." Castle grins to himself and lets go of Alexis, pushing her towards the couch. "Sit down; let's talk."

Alexis goes. He follows and sits at one end of the couch, lifts his arm so she can snuggle against his side. Alexis sighs into his chest and wraps her arm around him.

"After that weekend that you moved her stuff in, she just kinda never left," Alexis starts softly. "And I like her here; this is where she belongs."

His heart eases a little. "I think so. And, Alexis? The thing is, Kate thinks so too. I know that this summer seemed. . .messy and scary and that. . ." He struggles to find the right words for this.

Alexis speaks up from where she lays against him. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like it's the same any more."

Castle rubs her back gently. "It shouldn't feel the same, pumpkin. People change; they have to. It's for our own good. Kate's different; I'm different. I bet you are too. After this summer. But here's the thing - we all went through the same thing, and we're changing together. That's what this gift to her sister means. Can you see that?"

"That we've changed together? I don't understand."

"This is how Kate shows what she means, what we mean to her. Kate just had her life, her world pulled out from under her. But instead of clinging more tightly to all those safe and secure things, Kate's doing the risky thing."

"How is giving her apartment to Beth risky?" Alexis says, sitting up a little to eye him. Like she doesn't believe a word he's saying.

"No safety net. Nothing to fall back on. She's diving in, counting on us to catch her."

Alexis scrunches up her face and glances towards the hallway leading to his study and - beyond that - the bedroom where Kate is. "You mean like when I was a little kid and couldn't swim, and you told me to just jump in, that you'd catch me? And I did. I jumped in every time. Because I knew you would."

Castle grins at her and gives her a tight embrace, kissing her forehead. "Exactly like that, Alexis."

"So Kate's. . .taking off her floaties then." Alexis leans back and gives him an amused little grin. "Jumping in without a life vest."

Castle laughs. "Yeah. Pretty much."

"You better catch her, Dad. Otherwise, Kate's sure to drown."

He wants to laugh, but it hits him suddenly that his daughter is right. Kate said it before; she's a one and done kind of girl. This is it. Either they do this together or that's. . .she's done. She's done.

"I will. Don't worry, Alexis. I have no intention of dropping her."

* * *

><p>Kate keeps her phone on the bathroom counter as she zips the side of the dress, sucking in her breath. She switched with Beth's friend Lucie; now she has one size smaller and it is a little tight across the chest, but that's probably a good thing. Kate has a tendency to lose weight there first; when she's stressed, she eats like a bird.<p>

Seriously, this dress is gorgeous. And it looks so much like her sister. Like something her sister would be thrilled to wear herself. The color of pale jade, the material gathers just under the bust in a style similar to Beth's wedding dress, flowing to just above Kate's knees, forgiving but also hugging the silhouette.

Kate adjusts the single, wide strap on her left shoulder, fiddles with the decorative corsage attached to the material. When she first saw it in the store, Kate wasn't thrilled with the floppy flower thing, but now that it's on, it just. . .fits. It's exactly right. It's not Kate's style, but it does look good on her, on all of them.

Kate twists in the bathroom mirror, glancing at herself over her shoulder, then scrapes her long hair back, twists it at her neck, and holds it up. Her side flares with a sharp pain as she lifts her arms, but she grits her teeth and pushes through. She's so weary with being limited by this damn bullet wound.

No more. No more limitations. She's done with that.

The french twist is nice, but a little too severe for this dress, for Beth's wedding. Kate narrows her eyes at her reflection, then grabs a rubber band, making a simple pony tail with the ends tucked up.

Huh. Not that either. Something. . .fun. Something more like Beth.

Kate pulls the rubber band out of her hair; it falls in waves, slightly curling because she didn't take the time to straighten it this morning. She barely had time to finish her shower after Castle-

Oh. There's an idea. She gathers one side and starts a braid at her part, her fingers moving fast. When she gets all the way to the nape of her neck, she falters, not sure if she should braid to the end or something else. She wraps a rubber band around the half-braided hair, starts on the other side.

Rather. . .different, but if she pulls it into a twist after this, piles it up at the back so that the braids and the curls all riot together then that might work really well. She'll have to get Beth to help - or, well, Alexis. Alexis is probably pretty good at this.

Kate twists another rubber band around her hair and keeps her arms up, pushing at the edge of pain, debating the hair style-

"Wow."

Kate drops her arms and spins around, seeing Castle slumped against the doorframe, slack-jawed.

"Braids."

She twitches her lips and raises an eyebrow at him, the dress still fluttering around her knees.

"You're like a hundred times hotter than Princess Leia," he growls and starts stalking towards her, his hands capturing her arms, his palms hot to her bare skin.

"Star Wars," she sighs, wanting to roll her eyes but flustered by the heat in his face.

"And that's saying something, Kate Beckett. I might've broken a hundred different nerdy guy rules with that-"

She laughs and draws her arms around his waist, not sure she can take lifting her arms around his neck, not after pushing it. But this is just as good, drawing him close so she can brush his hips with hers.

"I wanna take you shopping," he murmurs, his mouth wet and hot against her, his teeth working at her top lip, giving her room to suck on his bottom one, giving it back to him.

She ignores his pointless words for a long moment, choosing instead to cradle his hips and keep his hands carefully away from her dress. He'll never find the zipper to do it right and she can't have it ripped.

"You hear me, Kate?"

"Huh?" she mutters, backing away a little but dropping her mouth to his adam's apple, nibbling.

"Ahh," he sighs and gulps against her mouth, sending ripples of delicious arousal drifting through her. "I wanna. . .go shopping. Today. For rings, Kate. Let's go find you a ring."

She jerks back, stumbling in her bare feet, her skin so hot that the dress clings. "You what?"

"Right now. I can't wait any more. I want you in your wedding dress next. Playing with your hair, trying to get it just right. Rings, Kate."

She sucks in a breath, startled and skittish, but something in her leaping up, the same thing in her that melts when he kisses her like this, but yearns after him when he pulls away.

"Okay," she says finally, staring at him. And then she feels the stupid smile on her face, the wide one with teeth that she can't control, and she steps into him, drags her arms up around his neck to hang onto him, pull him down into her. "You want to marry me."

He groans and bows over her, which helps ease the unzipping pain in her side, and his mouth attacks her ear, paints her jaw.

"I want everything with you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Heartlines**

* * *

><p>Alexis has to keep herself from jumping up and down as they take the elevator to the old apartment, all three of them, her dad and Kate exchanging deep, meaningful little glances that they think she can't see.<p>

She's not sure what it's about, but she trusts that they will tell her in time. And they're quite cute like this – little kids sharing a secret.

Her main focus, anyway, is Beth's wedding gift, and all the little ways she can think of to make it perfect, to make it just right. Alexis has only been to Kate's apartment twice, but she loves the place, the open space, the exposed beams.

Of course, it looks like Kate right now, but that's why they're here.

The teenager presses her hands together, shoots a bright smile to her dad as Kate unlocks the door. It's been too long since they've done something like this, only the three of them. Family. Last time was before the summer, before... Yeah.

She steps inside after Kate, can't help a surprised move as she looks around. The place looks so...empty.

Kate catches her reaction, and laughs.

"What did you expect, Alexis? Almost all my stuff is at the loft now." She arches an eyebrow at Castle, as if to say, _and here's the guilty party_.

Alexis's dad grins like this is his greatest accomplishment. And actually, his daughter thinks he is not completely wrong.

She takes a few more steps, assessing her surroundings.

The basic furniture is still there, of course, because it would have made no sense to have two couches, or two tables, or more bookshelves at the loft (they have enough as it is). But the walls are bare, and the books that Alexis vaguely remembers seeing on the stairs next to the kitchen have disappeared.

The bookshelf near the couch only has a couple novels left in it; there are no cushions on the couch, and the armchair that Alexis once curled into is gone. Oh, right. She thinks she's seen that armchair in her dad's study.

"So. What do you think?" Kate asks, tilting her head and smiling. Alexis blushes. Here she is, walking around like she owns the place, when this fabulous gift is not even her idea to start with.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"

"Alexis." Kate's hand lands on her shoulder, squeezes gently. "I need your help here. This may be my idea, but redecorating – that's all yours. And, I lived here, so it's hard for me to picture it differently. Okay? So you have to be the one in charge of this."

Alexis's heart gives a few eager beats and she smiles back to Kate, realizing once again how much she's come to love this woman.

"Okay. But she's your sister, so... If you think there's something she wouldn't like, something that's wrong, you tell me right away. Promise?"

Tenderness softens the angles of Kate's face, makes the green in her eyes lighter. More luminous.

"Promise."

* * *

><p>Castle is quickly assigned the heavy task of painting. They don't really have a choice: Alexis wanted the walls red, but none of them is sure that the paint they have will work on the brick walls of Beckett's place.<p>

If the walls can't be painted red, however, the beams can. Which is why Castle is now standing on a chair, arm outstretched to reach the wooden stucture that goes through the living room.

He won't be able to reach the upper part, unless they find a ladder, but Alexis seemed okay with that.

"We don't need it all red," she said, looking around decidedly. "We could make the curtains match the beams, paint the top of the steps to the rooftop terrace. It might even be nicer that way. More subtle."

Castle smiles, amused and pleased at the same time by the way his daughter is making the decisions, like an experienced interior decorator, confident in her abilities. And it's Kate's doing. Well, maybe his too, but mostly Kate's.

She's so good. So good for his daughter.

He wants her to start being good for *their* children. Soon. The picture of little J.R. in Kate's arms is engraved in his brain, shines with the soft glow of hope and desire. Kate with a baby.

His baby.

He itches to see it, impatience tingling inside, tugging at his heart, but – Beth's wedding first. He won't steal Beth's spotlight. He loves her, loves his mentee, and they both deserve it. Their special day.

He might buy Kate a ring tonight, but he won't do anything about it before the wedding.

His proposal can wait, he tells himself firmly, spreading red paint over his brush and rising to his tiptoes to apply it. Two more weeks aren't going to kill him.

He glances over his shoulder to check on his girls, the corner of his mouth lifting up when he catches a glimpse of them sitting on the stairs, chatting in low voices as they paint the steps red.

He's not even curious as to what they're saying. Okay, he is, a little, but not enough to interrupt them, not enough to disrupt the quiet peace of this moment.

Turning back to his own work, Castle cradles the hazy image of their future child to his heart, and grins.

There *is* something they can do before the wedding.

Practice.

* * *

><p>"Damn," Kate curses when she goes back to the can of paint, finds it almost empty. "I didn't think we would need so much." She catches the disappointed look on Alexis's face, turns to ask, "Castle, do you have any more red paint?"<p>

"Uh," he looks inside his own can, sways a little on the chair (she has to keep herself from dashing to his side, has to remind her silly brain that he's a grown-up). "No, actually. Just enough to finish this beam."

"O-kay," Kate answers, weighing their options. "Well, we can just go out and buy more. Get dinner, too." She glances at her watch, is surprised at how late it is.

She and Alexis were talking about the girl's plans for next year, how Alexis wants to take the same classes as Ashley (Kate had to disguise her horror, play it cool and suggest that it might not be the best idea), and time just...flew.

"Well," Castle says, prudently getting down from the chair, "we could also leave it, come back tomorrow. I'm sure there's more to be done anyway, right?"

Kate exchanges a look with Alexis.

"Hm, yes," the girl answers after a second. They've moved things around, trying to figure out how to make the room different, make it more Beth, but it only seemed to give Alexis more ideas – little things to buy, or bring back from the loft - so Kate knows there's probably a lot more to be done.

"Kate and I wanted to look for prints, too," she admits with a reluctant smile. "And I doubt galleries are still open at this hour."

"You still have a good ten days to do that, pumpkin," Rick says comfortingly, wrapping an arm around his daughter's shoulders. "In the meantime, I'm sure Beth doesn't want you to starve."

Alexis chuckles and lets herself be guided towards the door, Castle retrieving her jacket for her before he turns to Kate with her coat, blue eyes bright with excitement.

Oh, crap. This is what's been nagging at her since she looked at the time. Rings. She almost forgot about Castle's plan – and if the art galleries are closed, chances are they won't find a jewellery open either.

Her heart sinks.

"Castle, I'm sorry, I forgot –"

His smile widens, and she stops in the middle of her sentence. Why does he not look unhappy?

"What?" She asks defensively.

"Let's just say, I know a guy," he winks, gently easing her into her coat. "Alexis, sweetheart? Do you mind if we stop at Me&Ro Studio before getting food?"

The smile on Alexis's face is too knowing. Shrewd.

"Course not, Dad."

Kate looks from one to the other, noting the secret delight on the daughter's face, the open happiness dancing in the father's eyes. These Castles.

She shakes her head, laughs, surrenders.

"Let's get going, then."

* * *

><p>Castle can barely contain himself. Really. It's just too good. Too much good stuff.<p>

Kate bumps his hip as they're ushered inside by Robin Renzi, a narrow-faced woman in jeans and a grey, long-sleeved tshirt who also happens to be the owner. Castle glances at Kate and waits for Alexis to slide inside as well; Kate doesn't seem to be exactly comfortable, and it's rubbing off on Alexis he thinks.

"Robin," he says, extending his hand. "Thanks for opening up for us."

"Oh, anytime Rick. This must be Kate?" The thin woman turns her smile on his partner, shaking hands with her, then reaching back to his daughter. "And you're Alexis. I remember you as being about this tall." Robin gestures towards hip height and grins around her laughter. "Making me feel old, kiddo."

"Um. Sorry?" Alexis says laughing back.

Me&Ro Studio is in SoHo on Elizabeth Street, in the heart of what used to be some of the best arts and creative businesses in the city. The area has been refurbished somewhat in the last few years, but it still looks industrial. Inside her studio, Castle finds himself standing on red-stained wood floors with white display cases, natural lines and ergonomic touches.

"So, what have you got for us Robin?"

"Actually, if you don't mind, come on back to where I work. It's more comfortable back there and I can turn off these displays lights. I don't like to have the store lit up this late at night."

He nods but he can feel Kate stiffen beside him. She's not used to the way people go out of their way for someone with money. Surely she knows that he's not one to take advantage like that. Robin's been a friend of his family for awhile now.

"We don't mind," Castle answers for them and follows her back. The lights flick off as they go, Robin's hand on a timed switch. He waits until Kate and Alexis pass in front of him through the narrow back door and into Robin's work area.

"Oh, I've been here before," Alexis says with surprise. "When I was. . ."

"About eight or nine," Robin supplies. "Right, Rick?"

He nods and glances around. "Hasn't changed."

The space behind the gallery is brightly lit in the corners but gloomy in the center where light filters in weakly from the second story windows. Robin used to live above her shop, but she gutted the second floor on this side to combine her space. Circular stairs to the left take her above the work shop and into her open-air loft.

"I've acquired three more artists, Rick, Kate, that you might be interested in. Sarah Graham and Gurhan, also a few pieces from Barbara Heinrich and Sara Weinstock. That sounded like your style, based on the things you told me about Kate."

Beside him, Castle feels Kate stir, as if coming out of a trance. He glances down at her, sees her shift to the balls of her feet. Defensive then, waiting for an attack.

"It was totally a guess, Robin. I have no idea. Which is why I figured Kate should be the one to pick out her own wedding ring."

Kate gives him a narrow look, not mad, just studying him. Alexis breaks the ice by darting forward to a tray of grey pearls in various settings. "Ooh, Dad. These are so pretty. Kate, look at this."

Thank goodness for Alexis. At that, Kate eases forward and lets Robin nudge her towards various rings, at first such a wide variety of styles, and then slowly narrowing it down.

Castle knows that Beth's engagement ring struck Kate, that she really did like it, but that it didn't seem her type at all. Blue translucent diamond in a teardrop shape, lying on its side in a smooth silver setting, the diamond faceted irregularly. It is beautiful, and it reminds Castle of Beth.

But it just reinforced to him that women have vastly different ideas about what they like in jewelry. And not just that, but there are apparently all these childhood and teenaged visions that go along with it - ideas about what their engagement ring will look like on their fingers.

The more Robin and Alexis chatter about the metalworking process, the more Kate hones in on a few different kinds. She doesn't try any of them on; she slides them just on her thumb and glances at the metal against her skin tone. At least, that's what he assumes she's checking - how it will look on her. She seems to be reluctant to put any ring on her third finger, as if that might somehow jinx the whole thing.

Kate seems drawn to three different styles simultaneously. She clearly likes the simple and plain stacking rings - but he's fairly certain she just wants one of those. Not a whole stack. He has a feeling she will never let him spend as much on her as he wants to.

She pushes a band over her thumb he would have never picked for her: thinly beaten rose gold and copper rings crisscross and fuse together into one band. Chips of back diamond and white diamond are inset into a few of the thin strips of metal. The mix of materials gives it a steampunk flair, but Kate keeps coming back to it.

Then Kate lets her eyes linger over the duality rings - the ones set into oxidized silver so that the bands are nearly black, the diamond bright and white comparatively. Paired with those are their opposites: rings with the barest hint of grey translucent diamonds cradled in their platinum and silver settings.

Kate looks like she's studying a crime scene. He wants to laugh but that might break the spell, or her concentration, and she'd have them out of here and getting dinner.

Alexis leans on her shoulder and picks up one of the opal rings that Kate has already set aside. She slides it on her finger and holds her hand up, doing all the things that Kate won't do. Alexis models the ring, turns to Castle and shows him with a little grin.

"You do know that you're not getting one, right?" Castle says, smirking at her. He grabs her by the hand and tugs her ringed finger closer, glances down at it. He has a terrible foreshadowing of a few years from now, his daughter gleefully showing him the ring, and his stomach clenches with something both painful and amazing.

"I know, Dad. Jeez, stop making that face. I just like trying them on."

Alexis turns back to the workspace and pulls the ring off, setting it down on the velvet tray. Castle nods to Robin letting his eyes gesture to the abandoned opal ring; Robin doesn't even lift her lips, but she discreetly removes the ring from the tray.

Christmas present. And still. Yeah, so Kate gets a ring, but Alexis is making a committment here too. She's accepting someone else into their family in a way that Gina never was, never could be. But Kate's in. Kate is stepmother and friend and. . .

And so he just - yeah - he's feeling a little maudlin and sappy about seeing them both look at rings.

He's so sunk.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Robin says suddenly, and turns around, starts pulling stackable wooden trays out from the space beneath the work table. She deposits one of these trays in front of them, matching wedding bands laid out on the velvet-lined display.

Castle sees her carefully secrete the opal ring into a jeweler's bag and he smiles at her. He's so focused on this that it takes him a moment to really look at that matching wedding bands against the ragged black material.

And then he sees it.

"Oh. This is it. Yep, this is mine. Kate!" He darts forward and picks up the gold band worked into a circlet like a crown. Simple, no jewels, but it's a crown. For a king.

"Oh jeez, Dad."

Kate laughs and looks up at him, incredulous amusement in her eyes.

"Come on, Kate. This is perfect. And there's a matching princess tiara. Oooh, look at this."

"Actually, that's the consort crown, worn by the king's consort at her coronation." Robin gives him a shake of her head, as if to say _You'll never change._

He looks back over at Kate; her lips quirk at him, but she does actually look at the ring as he slides it over his finger. He can see her cheeks flush.

"Um. Castle. That's. . .very interesting."

"Oh, when did *you* start being polite and diplomatic?" he scoffs, wriggling the ring around on his finger. He flexes his hand a few times, making sure the pointed ends don't hurt. The tips are smooth though, and he really likes it. He really likes it.

"Well. If I get to pick what I want, then why shouldn't you? You're the one who has to wear a crown on your finger every day for the rest of your life."

She gives him a triumphant look, but that doesn't even slow him down.

"I know! Isn't it great? It's like the wedding will be a coronation and then I get to crown myself every morning when I put it on."

Alexis huffs out a breath but Robin leans against the work table and nods her head at the ring. "Actually, in the Eastern Orthodix religion, the marriage ceremony is considered a cornotation where the bride and groom are made king and queen of their future household."

"King and Queen of the Castle," he murmurs to himself.

Kate laughs then, running a hand through her hair as she studies his face. "Castle. Seriously. If you want it, you get it. I'm not going to tell you no."

"Will you promise me that too? You won't tell me no. Because we could write our own vows and that would come in handy-"

She puts her fingers over his mouth and shakes her head. "Stop right there. While you're ahead. Okay?"

He grins behind her fingers and kisses them, still wearing the crown wedding band.

Yeah. He was kinda kidding, a little bit. But he really likes it.

* * *

><p>Kate just can't. . .can't picture it yet. Everything is too beautiful, too much. She hasn't seen prices on anything, which is probably what Castle intended when he had Robin open her workspace for them and let them paw through all of her creations. Some half-finished, some raw, some complete, some just breath-taking.<p>

No prices means Kate has no idea what any of these will cost and becase of that, she finds she can't commit to any of them. A few are just. . .exquisite and unique and gorgeous. A few she can actually see wearing at the 12th without having to put it on her chain and have it knock against her mother's ring.

Her mother's ring. She's not wearing it right now because she was afraid it would get into the paint. And sometimes the band gets too cold in the winter months, burns with the icy grip of metal. When it brushes her scar, it makes her skin quiver.

Actually, she hasn't worn her mother's ring in. . .days.

"I'm ready to go," she says to Castle, taking him by the elbow. She knows she's clutching too tightly; he makes that face and _ow! Beckett!_ is on his lips as he wilts under her grip.

But he pauses at the look on her face. "Okay. We'll go get dinner then." His head swivels to Robin. "Give me a second?"

She nods, leans back to sit on the metal work stool behind her table. Alexis is giving her father a funny look, but Kate's guts suddenly feel too viscous and permeable, like it will all spill out. She doesn't have the werewithal to do more than give Robin a tense nod and try to breathe.

Her chest aches, fiercely. Damn. Damn it. This isn't even - it's not even a thing. Why now?

"Alexis, you ready for dinner?"

Her eyes are on Kate, but Kate can't even give Alexis a comforting smile.

"Yeah, actually. I'm starving. Chinese? Or that wok place?"

"Sounds good to me. Kate?"

She nods at him, releases his elbow.

"Hey," he says softly, murmuring in her ear under the guise of a kiss. "Take Alexis out front; I want to get her that opal ring for Christmas. You mind?"

"Which part?" she murmurs back, trying to force herself back into the present. The now. Not the past.

Castle grins at her as he pulls back, looking relieved. "Yeah, either one."

"Not a bit," she says, and reaches out to squeeze his hand. She feels that crown wedding band on his finger and the connection of her skin to that warm metal eases the ache in her chest.

She swallows and lifts on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

Kate turns and takes Alexis's hand in hers, pulling his daughter along with her. "Come on. Let's see if we can hail a cab out front."

Alexis gives her dad a swift look over Kate's shoulder, seems to resist, but Kate can just see the flicker of movement from Castle as he mimes something to his daughter. And then Alexis is the one dragging her out.

They stand in the dark gallery for a moment, Kate pausing because a flicker of paranoia still sparks inside her chest. Alexis seems to have it too, like it's catching, and she hesitates at the sturdy, wrought-iron security door.

Kate takes a long breath and gives Alexis a little nudge. They're both safe. It's fine.

"Come on. One of us has to be brave," she laughs.

Alexis flinches.

"Oh, Lex. I - I'm sorry," Kate whispers and draws her arms around the girl's thin shoulders, holding her tight against her own chest, where it hurts the most.

Alexis mewls and clutches her back. "I don't want you to die," she chokes into Kate's neck. "I don't want you to get shot and not come back."

"I don't want to get shot either," Kate shivers back, closing her eyes against the darkness seeping in through the glass door. "Believe me. It sucks. But I came back. I'm here. I'm okay." _For the most part._

Alexis laughs then, a garbled sound, and draws away, swiping at her eyes. "But you didn't come back."

"What?"

"You disappeared for three months. And Dad was always gone trying to convince you-"

Oh. Kate's stomach plunges.

"Sorry," Alexis whispers and turns to the front door, pushes it open, leaving Kate behind.

What can she say to that? _Sorry, Alexis, I wasn't thinking about you right then, I was thinking about me._

Kate shoves open the security door and steps out into the dark night, the brick buildings rising up on either side of the street. She finds Alexis huddled into her coat at the edge of the sidewalk, waiting to spot a taxi.

"Lex."

At least she doesn't act moody and give Kate the silent treatment. No, in fact, Alexis's eyes hone in on Kate with eager apology and a cringing humility.

So much like Castle. There it is. All of it in the girl's face.

"So now you know what you're getting into with me," Kate says, standing beside Alexis where the sidewalk ends.

"What?"

"Your dad and I. . .that's not just between us, is it? It's you too. And I forget that sometimes, Alexis. I'm sorry."

"You didn't come back."

"I didn't come back. At first."

"Will you do that again?"

Kate chews the inside of her cheek and stares out at the traffic. "It's possible."

"Now that I know. Like you said, now that I know what I'm getting in to, I can take it."

Kate's eyes dart swiftly back to Alexis's face, surprised, a little. . .horrified. It sounds terrible coming out of Alexis's mouth, innocent and naive, and no. Not yet an adult. Not like her and Castle.

"No," she says finally. "You shouldn't have to. Because it wasn't about you. Or your dad. It was me being. . .wounded."

"I get that. I do. I understand. We had this cat, kind of a neighborhood stray cat, who stayed with us in the Hamptons. One time when I was six or seven, it got hit by a car. I saw it happen. But even though I'd fed it and petted it and let it sleep in my room at night, when it was wounded, it didn't want to have anything to do with me."

Kate sucks in a long, shaky breath and tries to stand up under a wave of shame and guilt. A wounded animal. She licked her wounds alone. No better than an animal.

"I'm going to be better, Alexis." Kate turns her eyes to the girl. Her. . .her family. StepCastle. Little Castle. Sometimes a sister, sometimes a friend, but right now being a daughter. "I'm going to be better than a wild animal."

Alexis gives a nervous laugh and presses a hand to her cheek. "I didn't mean-"

"No, that's good. I needed to hear that. It's the truth. Only, let there never be a next time, right?"

"Never," Alexis breathes and flings her arms around Kate.


	6. Chapter 6

**Heartlines**

* * *

><p>It's later than Beth expected when she finally manages to extricate herself and Alex from the claws of Elise's overeagerness. Well-meaning claws, of course, but she doesn't think it's a good idea to voice this as she listens to Alex's rant about mothers and their unwanted attentions.<p>

She lets him vent all he likes, breathing in the cool night air and trying to catch a glimpse of a star beyond the New York lights as they walk up the street.

The lights will inspire you – isn't that what the song says? Beth smiles to herself, relishing the soft peace that spreads inside her, this feeling of being in the right place, at the right time.

Funny, to think all those years ago she ran away from New York City because she thought she could feel it smothering her, because she was convinced that she was meant for something else, something different.

And, maybe, because it was impossible to escape her mother's shadow here.

Ten years have changed that, remodeled the city, or remodeled Beth. Maybe a little bit of both. Ten years have made a big enough difference that she can stand in this street now, her arm loosely linked with her fiancé's, and be happy.

They stop at a crosswalk and Beth twirls on the spot, her mouth colliding with Alex's and cutting his complaint short.

He hums in surprise but parts his lips willingly, offers the warm, wet cave of his mouth to her enthusiastic exploration. The light probably turns green a few times before they finally part, Beth laughing breathlessly at the stunned expression on Alex's face.

The tear-shaped, translucent blue diamond on her ring finger tingles, as if warmed by the love in her heart.

"So, Mr. Conrad," she says playfully. "What do you have in store for me tonight?"

If there's something she's learned about the man, it's that he responds well to provocation. His blue eyes sparkle as he tugs her closer, fingers curling demandingly on her hips. Or well, on her coat.

"I don't know, Miss Beckett. What would you like to do?"

"Hmm," she pretends to think, straightening the collar of his shirt, and sliding her cold thumb along his neck just to see him shiver. "I don't know. How about spending some quality time with my fiancé? I feel like I haven't seen him in _forever_," she emphasizes, batting her eyelashes.

Alex arches a dubious eyebrow.

"Forever as in, since this morning?"

Beth sticks her tongue out, smacks his shoulder.

"You know, some people would be very happy to hear me say that. They wouldn't look too closely at the meaning behind the words."

"Yeah, well, you're marrying a writer, babe. Meaning is like, more important than air to us."

"Oh, really," Beth mocks, poking his abs. "And I'm not your _babe_, Alex Conrad. So watch your words."

He grins at her, something dark and visceral at the back of his eyes. He leans in to brush his lips to her cheek, her jaw, and whispers in her ear.

"What are you then? My darling?"

Beth smiles into his neck, shudders at the caress in his voice.

"My betrothed?"

She laughs softly, the word too old-fashioned for her, but vaguely appealing at the same time. "What is this," she asks lightly, "the eighteenth century?"

"Jeez, woman, you're hard to please," he answers, and she can hear the smile in his words. "How about my love, then?"

She presses an open-mouthed kiss to his skin, gives a flick of her tongue to make him writhe.

"I can work with that," she sighs happily.

"Good," he murmurs, pressing her against him, his arms firm at her back, his cheek to her temple. "Because I don't plan on letting you go."

Beth smiles, biting her lip, and blinks back a lone, silly tear.

"The sign just switched to _walk_," she remarks distractedly, having more or less forgotten that they're still standing in the street.

"So?"

Her smile grows wider. "Nothing," she whispers, closing her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent.

Nothing at all.

* * *

><p>Alex tells her he is going to take her to a new restaurant, a small Italian place that he's heard of and is supposedly divine, and Beth gives in without much resistance.<p>

"Let me just call Kate," she says. "I can't remember if we had plans together tonight."

She's fairly sure they didn't – otherwise, her sister probably would have called or texted by now – but it can't hurt to ask.

Kate picks up on the second ring, sounding a little breathess. It's the good kind of breathless though; the laughing kind.

"Bethie, hi."

"You sound like you're having fun," Beth observes coyly, even though hearing her sister so happy just makes her heart swell in her chest.

"Ah – I am, it's just...You know, Castle's silly jokes. We just left the wok place you and I went to last week. Remember?"

"Uh, yeah, I don't have Alzheimer yet, thanks." She's trying to pull out _insulted_ but the chuckle that escapes her makes her efforts vain. "Little Castle's with you?"

"Yeah," Kate answers, with that soft warmth to her voice that makes her sister picture the glow in her cheeks, the light in her eyes. Good. Probably means Kate and Alexis had a talk then.

Good. Beth still feels a little heartbroken when she thinks of the girl's sobs last night, and somewhat outraged that a girl as smart as Alexis could believe that Kate only loves her out of obligation.

"Did you want to do something tonight?" Kate asks.

"Uh – no, actually, I was just calling to make sure we didn't have plans. Alex wants to take me to some restaurant."

An arm wraps around her waist, surprising her and nearly getting a startled cry out of her.

"Not *some* restaurant," Alex scolds lightly. "A lovely, romantic Italian place where the food is to die for."

Beth laughs and shakes him off, shuffling from one foot to the other to compensate for the loss of body heat while he gets his own phone out. Probably calling a cab.

"That sounds nice," Kate teases over the phone. Of course she heard him. "And no, you can do whatever you want, Beth. The three of us are nearly home now, and we'll probably have a relaxing night in."

There's the slightest beat of hesitation after her last word, and this is so uncharacteristic that Beth immediately picks up on it.

"What?" She inquires, curious.

A moment of silence informs her that her sister is considerating sharing, and a soft sigh tells her that something good is coming.

"Castle took us to this...jewellery, or well, artist's studio, tonight. Alexis and I," she adds needlessly.

Interesting.

"Oh?" Beth prompts, hoping for more.

"We just, looked at the bracelets and the rings, and...Wait – let me get away from prying ears."

"Are you home yet?"

"Just getting to the loft now."

Beth hears some noise, the rumble of indistinct voices, and then her sister again.

"There, better. So, uh, yeah. Castle bought a ring for Alexis's Christmas. You'll love it; it's so pretty." Kate hurries a little through the words, as if it could throw her sister off.

Beth grins, but doesn't say anything. She knows what works on Katie.

She swears, she can almost hear Kate bite her lower lip before she says slowly, "Ok, and...Castle saw this ring. And I might just – have to buy it."

"Really?" Beth tries to not sound shocked, not freak her sister out, but come on. Who buys a guy a ring? Except –

Oh oh _oh._ She fights hard to keep the squeal inside. Are they finally...?

"Yeah, it's..." Kate sounds like she's shaking her head at herself, but smiling through it.

"Oh, Beth, you'll laugh. It's a *crown-shaped* ring."

"A what?" She *is* laughing, but maybe not for the right reason.

"You heard me. It's metal – gold or bronze, I can't remember – and shaped as a crown. Except it goes around your finger."

Beth giggles. Seriously –? Alex gets closer, arches an eyebrow at her. He always wants to know everything.

"And oh, you should have seen Rick. Worse than a kid. He was _so_ excited. It was..."

"Irresistible?" Beth offers playfully. Her sister doesn't even brush her off. Wow. "Well, that sounds awesome. And uh, what's the occasion? Are you buying him a ring as a signal, you know? Invite him to do the same?"

"Beth!"

"What? Come on, Katie, you can't hide the truth from *me*," Beth chides. "Don't think I missed those little looks you've been giving him."

"I –"

"Although, from the way Rick was looking at you the other night, when you fed little J.R., I'd say he has plans of his own..."

"Beth."

Kate is reluctantly laughing on the other end of the phone, but she seems curiously...okay with the whole idea. Beth would push it further, try to uncover what exactly is going on, but Alex is tugging on her hand, showing her the cab that just pulled over.

"Okay, sis, I'm gonna hang up. Taxi's here. And Writer Number 2 is getting a little clingy," she laughs, pushing Alex back and shivering when his lips brush her neck.

"Enjoy your romantic night, Bethie," Kate says before she ends the call. "And see you tomorrow."

"Love you," Beth answers before slapping one of Alex's wandering hands. He jumps away but she points her phone at him, accusing. He gives her a blank, innocent look.

"What?"

"Just for that, Alex Conrad, you have to keep your hands *off* me for this taxi ride."

"What?" he whines. "That's not fair –"

"It's going to be the taxi ride *and* the restaurant if you complain," she warns. Inside, she's exulting – it's lke playing at Kate. She loves doing that.

When he gets inside the car and sits sagely on his side, she rewards him with a brilliant smile, and watches him struggle not to touch her.

Oh, he's just too cute. Breaking her own rules, she reaches out and snatches his hand, brushes a kiss to his palm.

And his smile is worth it.

* * *

><p>When Kate eases inside the loft, pushing the door closed behind her, everything is abnormally quiet. She stayed down in the lobby to finish her phone call to Beth, but that didn't take more than a couple minutes.<p>

Where are the Castles?

She takes off her heels, hangs up her jacket, and glances at the living room and kitchen. Empty.

Uh. Oh, actually, Alexis is probably upstairs, skyping with Ashley. Kate has a distinct feeling that Alexis is, of the two, the one who tries the hardest to maintain their relationship.

She doubts it's going to end well. It'll be Ashley's loss, of course, but Kate doesn't want Castle's daughter to be hurt. Which will probably happen anyway.

She sighs. At least, she and Beth and Castle will be here to pick up the pieces, right?

Speaking of Castle.

Kate silently slides into his study, is surprised to find it empty. He's been working a lot lately, getting every little detail of the soon-to-be-released Nikki Heat as right as he can, and there have been quite a lot of nights when she came into his office to find him either typing in a flurry, or asleep on his desk.

But not tonight.

She pushes the door to their bedroom open, the soft light on the bedside tables welcoming her, a gentle halo bathing their bed.

Castle is there, sitting in bed, his back resting against the pillows and his blue eyes peering intently at the screen of his laptop. Kate smiles. So he *is* working; he's simply changed venues.

She watches him for a moment, the fingers flying on the keyboard and then pausing, the way his eyebrows knit when he's unhappy with something.

It's strange, how knowing him changes the way she views his books. And yet doesn't change it at all. She's always loved his words, always loved the way he can suck her into his world, make her breathe with his characters, laugh with them, hurt for them.

But knowing him. Knowing the amount of work that goes into those characters, the quasi-obsessive way he ponders the smallest detail – it makes it richer, makes his novels rounder because she gets to see the creative process, to see everything.

Not just the finished work. (She almost never peeks, though. Doesn't want to spoil it for herself).

And loving him, loving him only makes her love his books more.

It's a neverending circle, a closed circuit that pumps life into her the way her heart pumps blood into her veins. Kate takes a deep breath, powerless to stop the beautiful, delicate emotion that curls in her belly.

She knows better than to talk to him when he's writing, so she heads for the bathroom instead. The mirror lights show her a slightly tired, but happy-looking woman, her eyes bright and greener than she's used to, her lips curling up in a smile without her being aware of it.

She shakes her head in amusement – or amazement – and starts taking off her make-up. Or what's left of it, anyway.

After brushing her teeth, she sheds her paint clothes (good thing she didn't pick out the worst she had, considering they went to the gallery after that). She pulls her shirt off, glances up to find Castle's reflection looking at her.

"Thought you were working," she says. The smile on her face doesn't want to fade, it seems.

"I was," he answers, wiggling an eyebrow. "And then you got here."

She stifles a laugh, turns to face him and poke his chest. "Oh, no, Richard Castle. You do *not* get to blame me for your own laziness."

"I was done anyway," he adds more seriously. "I made all the important changes. I'm at the stage when I no longer know what's good and what's worth rewriting, so if you leave me at it, I'll spend the night replacing words that I'll change back tomorrow. Which is stupid."

Kate hums and lets him tug her forward, cradle her against his chest.

"Kate, I wanna thank you," he whispers in her ear.

"For what?" she asks, eyes closed in pleasure at his warmth, and the comforting scent of him that surrounds her.

"For being a friend to Alexis tonight. For talking to her, trying to...make things better. This summer –"

But he stops because she's pulling back, shaking her head, refusing his thanks.

"Castle, don't. No. You – you have nothing to thank me for. This is my own fault, my own mess, and I *know* I hurt you too, I know..."

She lets out a shaky breath, tries to steady herself. She meets his eyes, a deeper, tenderer blue.

"I'll fix this," she says firmly, her fingers curling around his forearms. "I'll fix this, Rick. I'll make up for it, I promise. And spending time with Alexis tonight – that's only the first step."

She hopes he can hear it in her voice, see it on her face. How determined she is, how grateful that she has them at all. And –

Committed.

Yes. She's committed to them.

Castle stares at her with a melange of pride and awe, his whole face alight with it, and before she expects it, his mouth is working at hers, nudging it open so his tongue can sweep inside, express his devotion and weaken her knees.

"I love you," he whispers when he breaks apart long enough to manage words, his thumbs stroking her temples, pushing her hair back as his eyes shine with such brilliant love that her heart misses a few beats. "Oh, Kate. I love you so much."

And then she's the one seeking his lips, because she can't speak and she certainly can't think. Her head is swimming, _CastleCastleCastle_, and she wants his body pressed to hers, wants his voice raw and vulnerable and _breaking_, wants *him*.

She feels his hands at her back, his fingers on the clasp of her bra, and she pushes him out of the bathroom, a little ruthless.

"Bed, Castle," she demands, shivering at the darkness in his eyes when he opens them.

"Yes," he growls back.

And even wedding rings vanish from her mind.

* * *

><p>Rick wanders out of the bedroom and into the silent living room. He cracks his jaw on another yawn and rubs at his eyes.<p>

No Kate.

No Lex either.

He shuffles to the kitchen and finds the coffee pot half empty but still warm, a note with _Dad_ on it propped up against it. He takes it and unfolds the notebook paper, blinks blearily at the two distinct sets of handwriting.

First, his daughter: _Headed out to meet up with Beth and Alex and Lucie. Needed help organizing seating chart. Gonna eat lunch with them for sure, don't know how long after that. Love you both._

And below that Kate's written him a short little note as well; it's more amusing than it really should be. _Back by 9. Be dressed. Taking you somewhere. Love._

Neither signed her name. Alexis put a heart-shaped 'o' in hers, but Kate is just serious, down to business. Castle glances up at the kitchen clock and yelps.

He's got maybe five minutes before Kate gets back.

Castle drops the note and heads back to their bedroom, tripping over his own shoes in the study, cursing his throbbing toe. He strips off his clothes as he goes - tshirt ripped off over his head, stumbling around trying to get his pajama pants off, crashing into the doorframe. He bounces off, hears something rip in his pants as his foot comes down to keep his balance.

Ah well. Not worth worrying about. Better to be ready when Kate gets back.

He showers fast, scrapes his elbow on the shower door trying to hustle. Boxers and jeans on, bare feet curling up on the cold floor. He's been thinking about remodeling the bathroom with those heated tiles. Kate hates the cold mornings; he doesn't love it either. She would-

"Castle? You ready?"

Ah, shit. "Almost." Just looking for a shirt. A clean one. He needs to do laundry. *Alexis* needs to do laundry. She's his go-to girl for that stuff.

Ha. Not Kate. She'd look at him funny if he suggested it. Kate can cook; Kate can't clean. Kate can't even remember to do her own laundry. Her side of the closet is also looking sparse lately. She just gets her stuff dry-cleaned.

"Hurry up," her voice calls out, drifting closer.

Castle runs a hand through his hair, starts pulling stuff out of his dirty clothes pile (should be in the hamper, yes, but the hamper is full too).

"You're not dressed," she says from behind him.

He turns to defend himself but her eyes are on his still-damp chest. Castle quirks a grin at her, reaches out to give her a shower-wet hug. Kate jumps back, holding a hand out.

"Wait. I picked up your shirts from the cleaners."

He blinks, arrested by the lunacy of her statement. "You did what?"

"Your shirts."

"My shirts aren't at the cleaners." Castle lifts an eyebrow, tilting his head to study her. Is she. . .crazy?

Kate laughs and steps closer, brushing a finger down his sternum, catching the button of his jeans and tugging. "They were."

He grins and shakes his head, but comes closer, a quick kiss on her cheek, her temple, brushing his hand through her hair. "I didn't-"

"Castle. I did. I took them with my stuff. You were running out of clothes."

His hand goes still against the back of her head.

"You. . .dropped off my shirts at the cleaners and picked them up?"

"With my stuff. Yeah. It's all out in the living room. It's a ton of stuff."

She turns and tugs him towards the door, but he's still gaping over this latest development. Kate just. . .did his laundry. (In a manner of speaking.)

Uh.

Wow.

He follows her back out the living room, walking as if in a daze.

"Wear one of those shirts and come on. I wanna show you something."

"You just did," he breathes, but she must not hear him over the crinkling of plastic as she starts digging through the dry cleaned clothes stacked over the back of the couch.

When she pulls out a plaid shirt and tosses it towards him, he laughs. She took a handful of his shirts to the dry cleaners. Shirts that could go in the washing machine. That he ususally does himself. Not just his dress shirts.

"What?"

"Nah, nothing."

"What, Castle?" She's got her hands on her hips. He notices a cup of coffee with a travel lid on the entryway table, wonders how long she's been out. How many errands she's been running.

"Nothing. You're just." He shrugs. Dares to say it. "You're cute."

Kate startles, her hands dropping from her hips. She opens her mouth, shuts it.

He has a strange feeling that no one has ever called her cute before. Sexy, gorgeous, beautiful. Sure. But cute? She's usually too overwhelmingly beautiful to just be cute. But he keeps seeing it lately.

She clears her throat. "Okay. Well. Um. Get dressed."

Castle is already sliding his arms into his plaid shirt, realizing (somewhat pathetically) that Kate not only did his laundry, but she also picked out what he's wearing today.

And he kind of can't stop smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

**Heartlines  
><strong>

* * *

><p>He messes with her during the drive. It's his car; he can mess with her. He's absolutely refused to drive anywhere with her in the Crown Vic if it's not police-related, and sometimes even then, he makes her take his instead.<p>

She drives of course. Even his car. She's got the keys to everything, of course, every car, the loft, his storage in the garage. She was a little overwhelmed with it when he started putting keys on her key ring last Christmas, but now she seems to be totally cool with it. And she likes this car. It's not the Ferrari, but it has plenty of horsepower.

Castle flips the radio station again, but she still won't rise to the bait. She's preternaturally calm this morning. She's smiling. She's been smiling. He's not sure he understands why.

"Are we there yet?" he asks.

"Almost."

"Really? You just answered the most annoying car ride question on the face of this planet like it was both the first time you'd ever heard it and also, wow, a really great question. What is *up* with you?"

She glances over at him, and he's immediately struck by the depth in her eyes. Shining and tender. Whoa. Whoa, wait. This is. . .something is going on here.

He thought, kinda, she was taking him to an especially crazy or goofy murder scene. Which, okay, yes, sounds twisted. But that's kinda how they roll. Still. No. This isn't that. This is-

Big. Big time stuff.

Kate is being patient and *tender* - almost sweet. And cute. She was cute earlier.

He wonders for half a second if she's dying. Has cancer or something. But no. No, if that were the case, she'd be halfway to her father's cabin-

Oh, wait. This is the route to her father's cabin.

"Kate!"

She startles, the wheel jerking; she casts panicked eyes to him. "What?"

Kate would be berating him for yelling in the car and scaring her. Kate would be bad-ass and mean and threatening. Kate would not be looking at him as if-

"You're not dying are you?"

"What?" she hisses, her eyes luminous and incredulous and pissed.

Yeah, pissed, there she is. Okay. It's okay.

"Never mind. Stupid question. Never mind."

"Castle, what the hell-?"

"No. Sorry. I just - this is the way to your dad's place, and you've been all sweet and nice and cute this morning, and I've been messing around with the radio station for-"

"The last thirty-eight minutes-"

"Heh. Yeah. Um. Never mind me."

"Castle. I'm not dying. Jeez."

"Just checking."

"And what? I can't be sweet and nice and - and cute?"

"No, you can. You are. Not. Just. Not together at one time?"

She presses her lips together, but he can tell (even just looking at her profile) that she's not angry or annoyed, she's. . .amused.

"Only you," she sighs, biting her lip.

Only him what? Spoil the moment is what it sounds like. But what moment? What moment are they having here that he seems to not be privy to?

It's not much longer before Kate's turned into the gravel drive leading to her father's cabin. The trees are already brilliant golds and reds and yellows, as if sunset got caught in the branches one late afternoon, and the trees never let go.

Castle gets out of the car after her, waits until she starts walking before he follows. She takes his hand; he realizes she's not wearing her father's watch this morning. She usually doesn't when she's not at work, but she wore it nearly every day out here.

At least, the days she let him stay.

He squeezes her hand and she glances back at him, half a smile on her face. She digs the key out of her back pocket and steps up to the front door, unlocking it quickly.

"Come on in," she invites.

She pushes him in ahead of her, so he steps directly into the small living room, dark and closed up for the season. He knows that Jim does some hunting and woodworking out here in the winter, but not often. He and Kate lived here in the summer for six weeks, and when Castle finally wheedled a reluctant acceptance from Kate for living in the Hamptons to continue that healing, Jim remained.

Kate doesn't stop to uncover furniture or turn on lights. She leads him to her own little bedroom, with the two twin beds. His back twinges in protest just seeing that narrow, short mattress.

Castle glances over at her, but she's lost in thought, standing at the foot of the bed she slept in for six weeks. Alone. He was right beside her in the other bed, but for all she really looked at him, he might have not been there.

"I never said thank you," she murmurs.

"What?"

She turns her head slowly. "Still not saying it, am I?"

Castle shrugs, a grin lifting one side of his face.

"Thank you, Rick." Sorrow swallows her face.

The grin drops. She's standing in a patch of morning light, her left cheekbone, her left eye, the line of that half of her jaw lit pure yellow and white. The other side of her face is in deepest shadow.

"You're welcome."

She nods, as if that's the answer she was looking for. As if it's a good answer. It's not. He's not sure what the thank you is for, except maybe for coming with her today.

"The bed wasn't nearly big enough for you," she says softly. "You were supposed to be finishing your book. I know Alexis was left alone, and how that must have torn at you."

Oh. For that maybe.

"But I got shot and I reverted back to the only coping mechanism that I had the strength for."

"Solitude," he says. Because he knows. He's always known. Doesn't make it hurt less, doesn't make him love her less. Actually, sometimes it's easier, knowing that she just needs it. The way he needs people; she needs to not be around people.

She nods, then gives him a tentative, blushing smile. "But I like being alone with you. I love being alone with you."

Castle grins back at her, stepping farther into the room, lifting a hand to caress the side of her arm, curling his fingers around her wrist. "I love being with you too."

"You're part of what I need to cope," she answers back. "And I didn't realize that until you convinced me to go to the Hamptons. It was just as. . .good there as it was for me here. As good as recovering from a bullet in the chest can be, I guess."

She's saying it lightly, with a smile, but he doesn't feel like laughing.

Instead, Castle leans in and brushes his hand back up her arm, catches her mouth for a kiss. He traps whatever she might have said next, working at loving her - here in this room where she so carefully kept him from loving her at all. He likes irony. He likes poetic justice.

He loves Kate Beckett.

He cradles her head in his hand, his palm gentle at her jaw as he strokes his tongue across hers, sucks on her lower lip, comes back for more. He can feel her blood pounding, her hand in his hair as if to hold on.

She breaks the kiss first, breathing noisily against his mouth, half-laughing. Happy. He likes to hear that in this room. He spent a lot of nights lying awake next to her but not truly beside her, lying awake listening to her sleep, making sure she still breathed.

She didn't want anyone or anything touching her; she shrank from every chance encounter of their skin. At least at first. She had a few nightmares but woke herself before he could get out of bed; she would only let him go get her a glass of water and then let him watch her drink it slowly until she closed her eyes again.

"I have something for you," Kate says, violently pulling him from memories.

He glances down at her beautiful face, surprised to see his Kate and not the Kate of four months ago, the Kate who couldn't stand anything to do with the real world. His Kate is here now, back, and even though he sometimes still sees lingering remnants of that other Kate, she's aware now. She knows. She gets it.

"What do you have?" He tries to grin and make it sound naughty, but all he can really do is watch the flicker of joy come alive in her eyes.

She bites her lip and reaches into her back pocket. For a second, he thinks she's giving him the key to her father's place, and he's ready to be touched, ready for the symbolism of that act, but it's not a key.

It's metal, and it's shiny, but it's not a key.

It's the ring he saw at Robin's studio.

"You got me the crown?"

She curls her fingers back around the ring in her palm and takes him by the hand, chewing like mad on her bottom lip. Back to the sexy but slyly shy Detective he watched walk away from him that first case.

He lets her lift his hand up, spreads his fingers for her, and then watches Kate slide the metal band down snug to the base of his ring finger.

On his right hand.

"It's a. . .promise ring," she says softly, then glances up at him, that crazy beautiful smile all over her face. "That sounds stupid now that I've said it out loud. But. It's just that when you got all excited about it last night, I knew that I wanted you to have it, have what made you happiest. And then I. . .I knew that you made *me* happiest."

He laughs, catching her by the cheeks to press a kiss deep into her mouth, the cool metal warming between his finger and her skin.

"Because I love you, Castle," she murmurs, pulling away a little. "And maybe I might seem like the kind of girl who wouldn't let you get a ring like this, a goofy ring shaped like a crown, but I don't want to be that girl anymore. I want to be this one. The one who deserves you."

He can't listen to any more, can't do anything but seal his mouth to hers and take all she offers, all the beautiful things she's trying to do just for him, the ways she lets go or holds on, and most of all - the love that stands like a bedrock beneath their feet.

She rests her cheek against his, her hands brushing up and down his back. "I promise. Never to shut you out again, never to act like I can do it alone when it's so very clear that I can't."

He shakes his head. "That's the amazing thing about you, Kate. You can. You did. But I think you forget that it's easier when you don't have to do it alone."

She nods against him. "Except it. . .seems harder to me at first."

Kate just gave him a ring. He can't quite fathom it. No matter what happens after this, he's not sure anything she could do could hurt him again. Because she loves him. She gave him a ring.

He feels like a high school girl wearing the quarterback's class ring. And now he feels disturbed that he feels like that.

Castle hugs Kate tighter and drops a softer kiss to her downturned lips, teases them up into a breathy smile.

"You do realize, don't you Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"You just crowned me King."

* * *

><p>Alexis exchanges a glance with Alex when the discussion over seating arrangements takes a heated turn; he's pressing his lips together, holding back a smile, and Castle's daughter firmly puts a lid on the laughter bubbling inside her.<p>

It's not like they're yelling – both Elise and Lucie are far too polite to just have at it. It's one nicely-put comment after the other, but basically they could just be telling each other _Go to hell._

"Think they're going to make it out alive, both of them?"

"Don't know," Alexis answers, fighting a grin. "Maybe you should do something. Be the white knight here. Seems like one is needed."

"Are you crazy? I'm *so* not interfering. This is dangerous. I'm not risking my life. I'm getting married next week."

Alexis was going to make a comment about cowardice, but she just can't now. Her whole being softens when he says the words "getting married."

"Are you scared?" She asks, a little shy, unsure that this is an okay question to ask.

But Alex laughs, leans back into his seat, seriously considering his answer.

They're both sitting on the couch, checking the wedding menus and programs and making sure there are no mistakes. Well, to be honest, they finished a while ago, but they've been. . .reluctant to attract attention.

The thing is, both Elise and Lucie seem to have very determined opinions about who should sit where, and neither is ready to let go, obviously. And Beth is just standing there, a hint of despair in her green eyes when she looks from her friend to her future mother-in-law.

Alexis feels a little sorry for her. But not enough to stand up and, like Alex himself put it, risk her life.

"Not. . .scared, exactly," Alex answers at length, tilting his head pensively. "More like, nervous. But the good kind of nervous. Like, when you have a test that you've studied hard for? And you walk into the room, and you're almost excited, because you're going to get a chance to show what you know, what you've learned."

"Yeah," Alexis smiles, surprised at how well she understands what he means. "Yeah, I know exactly the feeling."

Alex looks at her, his blue eyes so warm and friendly, and she feels affection rushing through her, tingling in her chest. She snags his hand impulsively, squeezes it.

"You're so good for Beth," she says, waves of joy and gratitude crashing over her.

He laughs, throwing his head back against the couch, and he pulls her to him, an awkward, sidways hug that feels wonderful.

"Oh, Little Castle, I don't know about that. I feel that, if anything, *I* am the lucky one. She's too good for me," he murmurs with a soft smile, turning his gaze to Beth who is looking at the plans drawn by her bridesmaid and mother-in-law.

"I think you're just right for each other," Alexis decides, giving him an approving little pat on the shoulder.

The vibrations of her phone distract her – it's sitting on the coffee table, sliding towards her as it rings and rings.

She detaches herself from Alex and grabs it, sees Ashley's picture on the screen.

"Excuse me," she tells the groom to be, before standing up and making her way to the kitchen for more privacy. She pushes the door closed behind her, and takes a deep breath as she answers.

"Ashley, hi!"

"Hey, Alexis! How's it going?"

He doesn't leave her time to give a proper answer, and something twists in her stomach. An anxious, bitter feeling, that sends a wave of nausea to her mouth.

"Look, uh, about next weekend –"

* * *

><p>When he's read the wedding menu for the fourth time, and drawn a couple flowers around Beth's name (thank god, it's the sample version), Alex stands up to stretch his legs, stifles a yawn.<p>

He's getting hungry. Maybe he can go out and buy pizza for everyone. His mother will argue that it's not healthy, but he really wants pizza. And from the look on Beth's face, she could use a distraction right now.

He manoeuvres his way to his lovely bride, careful not attract his mother's attention, and presses a kiss to Beth's neck.

She shivers against him, lifts anxious eyes to his face.

"What do you think?" she says, pointing out to the pictures she's studying. Flowers. Both arrangements look very pretty, one red roses and white lilies, the other white roses and deep purple...something.

"Which do you like more?"

"I – I don't know," she says, biting her lip. "Your mom likes the red and white better, but the deep purple lisianthuses are gorgeous. And at the same time, maybe we should go for green and white, because, really, the bridesmaids' dresses are green and –"

She can't finish because he's turned her chair to him and covered her mouth with his, kissing her softly, gently, before he rests his forehead against hers.

"Relax, Beth. They're just flowers," he murmurs. She sighs and gives a reluctant little laugh, bringing a hand to his cheek and caressing his skin.

"You're right. God. I need food."

"Speaking of which," he says, delighted that their minds are so alike, "I was thinking of getting us some pizza. What do you think?"

"Oh, yes, pizza," she moans against him, making him laugh. "Pizza. I want pizza. You, Alex Conrad, are an amazing man."

"I love you," he replies, struck once again by the truth of that statement, by the light and warmth that surround it.

He kisses her again, deeper this time, his tongue teasing her lips before sweeping inside her mouth, tasting, taking. She lays herself open, rich and beautiful against him, her fingers folding on the collar of his shirt; he almost forgets that they're not alone, but his mother's voice breaks his trance.

"Alex, don't distract your bride," Elise says gaily. "We still have work to do."

He groans, hangs his head. Beth laughs, this lovely and soothing sound, and he feels his whole body lifting up.

"Well, I'll get us supplies then," he offers. "Lucie, do you have anything against pizza?"

"Oooh, no I don't," Beth's friend says with a hungry look. "Pizza sounds _perfect_ to me."

"A-lex," his mother sing-songs in a gently reproving tone.

"I'll get you a salad, mom, don't worry," he promises, and he moves fast, grabs his jacket, because he knows his mother won't be put off for long.

Beth catches him in the hall when he's about to step out, her eyebrows knit. He wants to kiss her, run his tongue over that tiny part of her mouth that she's worrying.

"Do you know where Alexis is?"

"Oh, uh."

Actually, now that she mentions it, he hasn't seen Alexis for a while.

"She went into the kitchen to take a call. Her boyfriend, I think. Haven't seen her since."

"Oh." Beth looks vaguely worried, and he can't resist. He presses his lips to hers, traces her jaw with his fingers.

"I'm sure she's fine, honey. But go find her, see for yourself."

"I will," she murmurs, giving him one last kiss before she steps back. "And you, go get my food. I'm starving."

"Yes, your majesty." He mock-bows, and retreats, but not before he catches the glimmer of desire in her eyes.

And that – oh, that just makes him hungrier.

But not for pizza.

* * *

><p>Beth knocks softly, and when no answer comes, she pushes the door open cautiously.<p>

"Alexis?"

The first thing she sees of the girl is her red hair; Alexis has her back to her, but the way her shoulders are trembling is unmistakable. Beth's heart twists in her chest.

"Oh, Alexis, baby."

She wants to gather the girl in her arms, console her, but Alexis turns to her and wipes her cheeks impatiently, forcing a smile.

"It's nothing."

"Lex."

Castle's daughter sighs, gestures at her phone on the kitchen counter.

"It's just. Ashley can't make it. He can't – come to the wedding."

Her voice is raw, tears shining through.

"I...I don't care," she goes on, biting her lip. "It's fine. I don't care."

"Trust me, no matter how many times you tell yourself that, it won't be enough to make yourself believe it," Beth says with a sad smile.

Alexis meets her eyes; she looks so fragile, so vulnerable. A little girl rather than a young woman.

"How do you do it then?"

Beth lets out a slow breath, weighs her words.

"There's no miracle cure, Alexis." She steps forward, lets her fingers curl around the girl's forearm, and tugs her closer. Alexis comes, rests her head on Beth's shoulder. "You just...go on living, focus on the little things, and then someday – you find that it doesn't hurt so much."

"It's just. . ." Indignation gathers in Alexis's voice, sparks of burning anger. Good. Anger is good, easier to manage than pain. "I never come first, Beth. He *never* puts me first. When he's supposed to Skype with me, he always has a game to go to, a dinner with his friends – I –"

"You feel like you count for nothing."

"Yes! Yes, exactly. And then, the only thing that really matters to me, your wedding, that we talked about weeks ago, that he promised me he would come home for, fly back to the city for the weekend –"

She stops, shakes her head furiously, lips pursed.

"He says he has to _study._"

The words come out as a snarl, contempt and disbelief laced together.

"He never said anything about studying before. It all sounded like fun and games and parties. And now he has this big exam he should study for?" Alexis swallows, dabs at her cheeks for the few tears that squeezed out. Beth looks at the girl, her sister, her adopted little sister, and she feels infinitely sad. Alexis deserves better than this.

"Do you believe him?" She asks gently.

"I don't know," Alexis sighs. "And even if I do. It doesn't change anything. He should have organized himself better, so that he could keep his promise to me. He should have..."

"Yes," Beth agrees quietly, kissing the girl's temple. "Yes, he should have." She hesitates. "Alexis. Did you guys break up?"

A small sob escapes Castle's daughter, but she quickly pushes her emotion back, stiffens her spine. "I...guess so? I yelled, and he yelled, and –"

She closes her eyes, rubs a hand over her forehead.

"Did you say it was over?"

"Not...exactly, no. I told him that if he couldn't put me before his friends and his parties and his exams, then there was no point in us being together. If he won't make the slightest effort..."

Beth embraces the slim shoulders, hugs Alexis.

"And you're right, Lex. You're very right. I know it hurts, but it's the right thing to do."

Alexis's breath trembles against Beth's neck.

"I think I know that too. And that's what makes me sad, Beth. I don't even regret it, because I know it's the way it should be. I mean, I see you and Alex, and my dad and Kate, and I just –"

"You want someone who will respect you, and see just how amazing you are. Nothing wrong with that, Alexis."

The only response she gets is the girl's arms tightening around her, and that's all she needs. Beth rocks them gently, providing what comfort she can, waiting until Alexis's breath settles.

And when it no longer feels like one of them might break apart any minute, Beth suggests playfully, "Now. Do you think some pizza would help make it better?"

She gets a grudging laugh for her troubles.

"Can I get ice cream too?"

And Beth laughs, hugging the girl tighter.

"Anything you want, Lex. Anything you want."

* * *

><p>"Walk with me to the lake," Kate asks, offers. No question in her voice.<p>

Castle looks up at her, surprised. They made lunch together and she insisted on doing the dishes afterwards, so he's been sitting in the tiny living room, trying to read an old John Le Carré novel (which has proved nearly impossible since his eyes automatically drift to his crown ring every couple seconds).

But the lake. Wow. The lake is where Kate spent her time this summer, when she wasn't holed up in her room. A lovely path through the trees leads to a cute little pier with a small fishing boat tied up, bobbing picturesquely on a mirrored lake. All her father's.

She never asked him to come with her, not once. The first time, she sneaked off while he was sleeping, and it was Jim who nodded him towards the lake. He went, because he didn't want to leave her alone, didn't want her to be lonely, but after a few hours of feeling superfluous and of not getting answers when he ventured to speak to her, he gave up. And he didn't try to go back out there with her.

She knows it, of course.

It's all over her face, the soft apology, the spark of joy when she holds out her hand to him.

He takes it.

"Sure."

They walk side by side down through the wind-shimmered trees, the last of the afternoon light touching their skin. The Kate of today looks so much better than the Kate of four months ago; stronger, fitter, more meat and less bone.

"I missed you," he says suddenly, not sure where that comes from.

She turns her head, watches him for a moment. "I know you did." She hasn't said she missed him too. Because, well, he knows better. She needed that space. He's not the same as her; he works differently. He doesn't mean he holds it against her.

She hesitates and opens her mouth, but he shrugs and shakes his head. "I don't need an explanation, Kate."

"What if I want to explain?"

"I'm not sure I want to hear it," he says honestly. He really can't imagine listening to her carefully, patiently try to soothe his fragile ego. He's not fragile; he knows she loves him. There's some hurt, and yeah, a lot of grief, but that was because she nearly died and he-

"I know you think that you're okay with it," she says carefully. "But you're not, Rick."

There goes the carefully part. Next is patient. Then soothing. "I'm good. I get it."

"Yeah, and while that's sweet of you, it's not right for our relationship. I made a mistake."

"You got shot. I think that forgives anything."

Kate falls silent, but he can tell she's just brainstorming a new attack. He's determined to be good about this, to chill. Be okay. Because she nearly died. She loves him; he loves her; she nearly died. What else matters except the fact that Kate Beckett is breathing beside him?

"You got hurt," she says finally, just as they clear the trees and emerge at the shoreline. Kate pulls him towards the dock, their shoes echoing on the wooden boards. She used to sit out here alone, staring at nothing, hunched over because of the wound, sometimes leaning against the wooden piling where the boat was tied.

"*You* got hurt," he says back, already able to feel the wide black gulf open up in him. That's done. He doesn't want that anymore.

"And because I did, you did too. We're together in this, and I know that. I knew that then. But it hurt to see you hurt. It made it impossible to struggle through, with your broken heart in my hands."

He gapes at her. Kate Beckett isn't a poet but that was-

"So you gave it back?" he says, incredulous. Angry. Angry again at her. How heartless she was-

He clenches his fists, finds that his hand is still in hers; he's crushing her fingers.

"I gave it back?" she murmurs, looking ashamed. "I didn't mean to. But I couldn't. . .wasn't strong enough to both heal myself and also heal you. I don't know how to do that, Castle."

"Obviously not." No. No more anger. She's alive; it's not right to be so angry at her when she's alive.

"I didn't mean to give it back. Did I do that?"

Of course not. It's her. Always has been.

She sighs; maybe she sees that on his face. "But I get it now. It's clear how this is supposed to work. I lost sight of that for awhile, how I-"

"But you came home with me," he says, clearing his throat, sweeping the anger away. "You finally came home with me."

"Because I needed you so badly," she whispers, turning her head. "I was being selfish."

Castle wraps his arms around her, burrowing his nose into her hair, this woman he loves and loves and sometimes finds so very frustrating. Insanely frustrating. He could kiss her neck or throttle her.

"Why did it take so long to give in?"

"It felt like I was making us unbalanced," she says immediately. So she's been thinking about it then. Asking herself as well. "I was taking too much and I had nothing at all to give. Everything hurt, Castle. Every part of me, inside and out, and I wasn't sure I was actually going to be able to stand on my own two feet if I didn't first stand alone."

"You never need to stand alone; I'm here-"

She curls her arms up his back, lifts her body into his. "No, I know. I meant literally, literally not be able to get up."

"Oh. Why-?"

"I spent most of my time out here trying to decide. It's. . .clear to me, Castle, what I've been doing. Trying to do."

"What do you mean?" He doesn't like talking to the top of her head; he lets go so he can see her face, but she seems to cling to him, staying with him, but he pulls back, combs his fingers along her scalp, down through her hair. She sighs and closes her eyes for just a second, her lashes looking like feathers on her cheeks.

"I've been trying to go after these guys behind my mother's murder even though every path I take ends in death. For the hired killers, the conspirators, for the Captain. For me. And if I'm going after them, then that means I'm also going after death."

"God, Kate. Don't-"

"It's death. I was blinded by this need for closure, but it's clear to me now. But at the same time, I'm coming home to you, to Alexis; I'm shopping with my sister in broad daylight. I'm taking this path - the one where we get married and have kids together and I-"

His whole body catches fire, a terrible and lovely burn, and he presses that heat into her with his mouth, both overwhelmed by visions of the future and terrified by the death that seems to haunt her.

When she breaks from his kiss, he can tell she's trying to keep it together, trying to remember the point. That strokes his ego enough to ease the anger that still gnaws in his guts like a malnourished beast.

"The two lives don't go together, Castle. Rick," she corrects herself softly. "I can't chase after death and also chase after you."

"When were you chasing me?" he grins, smiling into her chastised face. "I would've stayed still if I'd known."

Kate gives a laugh out into the golden air, puts her arms around his waist to lay her cheek at his shoulder. He slides his hands down to her waist, fingers at her curves, lets her rest for a moment.

"You're still enough now, aren't you?" she murmurs.

"I'm a statue. I'm frozen to the spot. I'm like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White and you have to come kiss me awake-"

She laughs and draws her hands back to his, dislodges them only to bring the hand with the ring up to his eyes. "You're no Sleeping Beauty. You're supposed to be the Prince."

"Prince Charming? Really, Kate? Cause that's the sappiest, syrupy, most romantic-"

"Shut up, Prince." She lifts on her toes and kisses him lightly, then opens her eyes and sighs against his mouth, long and melodramatic. "Still a frog."

Castle laughs, clutching her tight to him, dropping a kiss to her cheek, her temple, the flutter of her eyelashes. "So this is you chasing after me?"

"This is me chasing after you, Castle. And not death. Not anymore."

"Your mom's case-"

"I'll take what comes; I'll be careful. I can't abandon her. It. But it's a pitfall I'm going to walk around, avoid, go out of my way to not even go near again."

He wants to say _Good_ with relish, but that sounds entirely too selfish even in his own head, so he doesn't. Still, he wants one more thing. Needs it.

"When you're hurt, Kate, when you're dying in my arms in the grass of a cemetery, the last. . .last thing I need is for you to try to protect me, my heart."

She sucks in a breath but nods.

"Healing my shot-up heart," - he starts, wonders for a moment if this is too soon, plows ahead - "all it would've taken is for you to show me yours. But you hid it away, something precious and vulnerable, and Kate, don't you know I'd never let anything happen to your heart? You never need to hide it from me; I know how precious it is."

She's got tears streaking her cheeks but she nods again, staying carefully in the circle of his arms but not stepping into his embrace, as if she's punishing herself. Castle draws her in, makes her come, kisses the wet slide of sorrow down her face.

"Don't be sad anymore, Kate. It's done. It's over. I don't want to be sad or angry or hurt anymore."

He can feel her swallow from where his fingers skim her throat; he leans in and takes a kiss, deepens is so she can taste how much new life he wants to fill her with.

In so many ways.


	8. Chapter 8

**Heartlines**

* * *

><p>Kate would like to make love to him but she has a sense (a spidey sense? smiling to herself at that), a sense that there's more to be done, a burned place in him that needs to be soothed. Healed. He does his own share of hiding; she wonders if he knows that.<p>

They sit on the edge of the dock with their bared legs dangling into the calm water, jeans rolled up, shoes off and piled next to them. Kate leans against his shoulder because something about sitting here makes her feel hunched and needy, but she battles at it. She twines an arm around his and uses the warmth of his body and the brilliant blue sky and the rustle of the lake to fight it.

Gradually, her spine uncurls, her chest stops cramping. She realizes that she's using her free hand to massage the tender place between her breasts, realizes also that Castle is quiet but alert at her side.

She wants to make love to him and forget, but there's still work to be done.

"Come inside with me," she says, but this does have a question in it. She's not sure of her way, only that she needs for them both to go forward.

"All right. But my feet are wet."

She grins into his arm and remembers coming back alone from a long sojourn down here on the dock and finding Castle on the deck waiting for her, a towel laid out beside him. She wasn't allowed to swim, of course, but she had dangled her legs over the edge, like now, and Castle had made her sit down on the bench so he could dry off her feet, her calves, serving her in one of the only ways she'd left to him.

"That was the day I realized what I'd been doing - that's when I asked to go with you to the Hamptons," she says, lifting her head so he can see her smile.

He's smiling back. "I remember."

"I didn't want to come back from my time at the lake and not have you. So I figured sitting and staring at the Atlantic was equally helpful."

"Was it?"

"It wasn't the ocean that helped me, Rick."

He leans closer and palms her cheek; she loves the way he touches her when he's filled up with them, with this, with the way they love each other. She breathes lightly against his cheek and lets her mouth wander across his.

"Let's go inside," he murmurs.

Kate lets him help her up, because he's polite and a good man and not because she needs help. It feels differently, his gestures, when she's not defensive, when she *can* stand on her own two feet. This is the problem for her - not knowing how to accept help when she absolutely needs it, but having no trouble accepting help when she could easily knock it aside. She will have to learn to need with grace.

They walk slowly back to the cabin, hands brushing but not together because the little frissons of awareness are so clear and delicious that it's better this way, to tease. It stays in her chest, light and bright, and it makes her crave the heavy touch of him over her.

But there's more to do. She needs to set them right before they chase after a family. Castle babies. Kate reaches out and snags his hand because the thought of children with him makes her instinctively yearn towards him, pulled true north by him, and just brushing his hand isn't enough anymore.

They walk inside with their wet feet, but she finds a kitchen towel in the drawer by the stove and hooks a finger in his belt loop to stop him before he goes anywhere. He chuckles when she leans down and dries off his feet, brushing her thumb at the strangely sensitive strip of skin to the left of his knee. He gets goose bumps and drops his hand to her shoulder.

She dries her own feet, dislodges his hand so she can take it in hers, and guides him to the back bedroom with its two cramped twin beds.

Kate leaves him standing in the doorway. He doesn't look confused, just patient. She realizes they haven't said a word to each other since they started walking back. Kate puts her thigh against the bed she slept in and tries to shove it in towards the middle. Her skin tightens and pain flares; she doubles over, hands pressed tight to the scar. She forgot. For a moment, she forgot.

"Kate?" His hands land at her back, move to her shoulders, but she can't straighten up yet.

"Can you push the beds together for me?" she says instead, gritting her teeth. "I can't do it."

"Yeah. Sure. Of course."

He leaves her side to angle the beds together, shoving first one end and then the other until the twin beds form a somewhat full mattress. Kate drops to the end of the bed and stays bent over for a moment more, waiting for the sharp cramp to ease.

Castle sits down next to her, rubs her back. She gets control of her breathing and sits up a little, pausing in increments to make sure nothing else will twist or tear.

"Do you fit if you sleep across both? Diagonally." she asks, now that she's managed to take a deeper breath.

Castle glances behind his shoulder to the twin beds then nods. "Probably. Why? You wanna sleep with me?"

Leering. Jeez, Castle.

But she grins. "Yes. Lie down for me."

His startled amazement is quickly replaced with indulgent love and a thin veneer of immature lust. But she'll take it - all of it - the horny teenager and the lovestruck puppy and the good, good man. He does lie down, but he brings her with him, holding her against him to control their descent.

She turns carefully in his arms until her back is pressed against his chest, his legs curled up behind her thighs, his warm mouth at her neck. He wraps an arm around her waist and sighs.

"I wanted to do this every night," he murmurs.

Exactly. Exactly. Kate tugs on the hand at her belly and pulls his palm to her mouth, seals it with a kiss. "I want to be this. Like this. For you."

"I don't need you to be anyone other than yourself."

She can't help the rush of warmth that flashes across her skin. How he wants her, loves her. She hopes it's not unbalanced, hopes he knows how much she-

Why hope? Tell him. She should tell him.

Kate turns to her back slowly, being careful of the tender places around her scar. Castle is watching her expectantly, but he raises his hand to the bullet wound and lays his palm over her, as if to protect it. Protect her.

She wants so badly to have him. She does have him. But to take everything he offers and-

"I want you to marry me," she says, staring at him. He grins, but she sees, with relief, that it's not new information. He does know. He knows.

"Oh I plan on it."

The relief breaks open her smile and she can't control it, doesn't want to. "Good."

"I mean," he starts, with a melodramatic look of sincerity on his face. "Where else am I going to find a woman - in this day and age - who will crown me king?"

She laughs, not wanting to feed his ego but unable to stop herself, laughs and watches him maneuver so he can hold his hand in front of her face and wriggle his fingers.

"Only Kate Beckett would be so-"

"Stupid?" she supplies, grinning at him.

He grunts disapproval at her word choice. "Hardly."

"Maybe just stupidly in love with you," she says, feeling it all over her face, wide open for him to read.

"Not true. I picked a smart girl. A hot, smart girl." His eyebrows dance at her. "We gonna spend all afternoon in bed then?"

"Maybe you're a toad instead of a frog," she laughs, reaching a hand up to touch those wriggling eyebrows.

"A what?"

"A horny toad," she explains.

Castle's laughter rolls through the room, shatters their old memories, breaks those six weeks this summer into a thousand pieces, never to be put back together.

Now, now she can make love to him. Now it's fixed.

"Come here," he laughs. "Let's try the kissing thing again. Maybe that will help change me."

Kate bites her lip as she grins at him, shakes her head. "I don't want to change you, Castle. I just want you."

He chuckles again, rich and low, then leans over her to push his laughter into her mouth, hot and urgent, and her body rises to meet him.

Now it's fixed. Now she chases this, the way his hand traverses her body, the way she finds her whole future in the love that pours out of him.

* * *

><p>Beth finds Alex in the bathroom, washing his hands, his shoes already on. She smiles a little; his enthusiasm is too cute. She'd never have guessed Alex Conrad was big on dancing, especially on traditional dancing, but her experience has proved wrong.<p>

"I want to waltz with you," he told her one night, sparkles in his clear blue eyes. "I wanna waltz with you at our wedding, twirl you around, and think 'this is it'. This is my happy ending."

And silly as it sounds, it got to Beth. Those kinds of things always do. Her mother always joked about her little girl's tender heart, about Beth's inability to say no when the person asking looked at her with pleading eyes, and it's still true.

So she agreed to the dance classes, even though she doesn't have the slightest idea how to waltz or to fox-trot or any of those things really. And Alex does, the little bastard. Took classes with his high school sweetheart. Of course.

She circles his waist with her arms, leans her cheek into his back after giving him a smile in the mirror.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

"Yep. I've got all my stuff in a bag, including the dance shoes." She runs her tongue over her lips, asks the real question. The reason why she came in here. "Alex. Can we take Alexis with us?"

"To the dance lesson?" He sounds surprised but not unwilling. Good.

"It's only an hour and a half. And then we can go back to the loft with her, have dinner? She just... broke up with Ashley," Beth admits softly, knowing her fiancé will understand.

"Oh," he says, wincing as he pulls her hands from his waist, turns to her. "Well. You...sort of expected that, didn't you?"

"Yes," Beth sighs. "But still. I hate to see her hurt."

He curls his hands around her forearms, pulls her into him. "I know. Of course, she can come. But don't you think she'll get bored?"

"She has a book to read for her English class. It's just...so I can keep an eye on her, you know?"

Alex nods, leans in to brush a gentle kiss to her lips. "I love that you're such a good friend, good sister."

Beth smiles, shakes her head at him, her fingers finding a home against his cheek.

"You're easily persuaded," she says playfully, her insides turning to mush at the burning look he levels on her.

He links their mouths with more determination this time, as if he has something to prove, as if the swirl of his tongue against hers stands for his commitment, the graze of his teeth for his passion, his slow, hot exhales into her mouth for his love.

"Not so easily," he assures her in a deep, deep voice, his lips moving against hers. "Not so easily."

* * *

><p>Alex leans on the barre that runs along the wall and waits for their dance instructor, Philip, to show Beth the next series of steps. He finds it quite amusing – though he would never dare say it out loud – that his fiancé, who is a reasonably good dancer when you put some music on and let her do her thing, has so much trouble memorizing particular steps.<p>

But she tries, she actually tries, and a warm feeling rushes through him when he remembers that this is for him. That she's doing this for him.

Because she loves him.

He's not sure what he's done to deserve such happiness, but he'll take it. Take everything she has to offer.

Unable to fight the grin that wants so badly to curve his lips, Alex looks away, and his eyes land on Alexis, who is sitting on the floor at the other end of the room. Her book is open on her knees, but she's not reading; she's watching Beth and Philip instead.

The longing etched on her young face is positively heartbreaking.

Before he's even aware of it, Alex is halfway across the room; Alexis's head swivels to him, red hair flying, and the intense sadness disappears from her eyes. But too late – he's seen it all.

He sits down next to her, his back to the wall, spreading his long legs in front of him, and doesn't let himself hesitate.

"What are you reading?" he asks. The good thing with books is that he never has to feign interest.

Alexis sighs, lifts the cover so that he can see it. _Hamlet_. Ah. A classic.

"One of my favorites," he comments happily. "But then again, I'm partial to bloody deaths."

That gets a snort out of the girl, and she knits her eyebrows, her fingers skimming the pages.

"I don't understand why everyone makes such a fuss about it," she observes quietly. "Everyone dies in the end, except poor Horatio who's supposed to pass on the story, and... I just can't see the point. It seems like such a waste."

"You think so? What would you have done in Hamlet's place? Just...ignored your dead father's ghost, gone on with your life?"

"That's the thing – we don't even know if the ghost is real, or if Hamlet is actually going crazy. And he hurts his mom, hurts the girl he loves, kills her father unwittingly –"

Alexis shakes her head in incomprehension; Beth's fiancé tilts his head back against the wall, tries to consider things from her point of view.

"And you should feel sad," she goes on, "but I don't really, because I don't even like Ophelia. She's so weak and so thin a character..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Alex stops her, raising a hand as if to put a physical limit to her words. "Easy on Ophelia. She's one of my favorite characters in all of Shakespeare."

"Is she?" Alexis says, obviously surprised. "Come on. What about Viola, Rosalind, Cordelia? They're strong women, good characters. But Ophelia?"

"Give Ophelia some credit, will you? Her father and brother are trying to manage her life for her. And she's shy and sweet, but you can see she has some wit to her. She just lacks confidence. On top of that, the guy that swore he loved her, who courted her, suddenly turns her away. Won't have anything to do with her. He tells her – in a conversation that is pretty violent – to enter a nunnery! How would you react? And then she learns that he *killed* her father. That the man she's still in love with killed her dad. And her brother's away, so she's on her own, all her hopes and dreams crushed. It's terrible. No wonder she goes mad."

Alexis presses her lips together, gives a little shrug, clouds gathering in her eyes.

"I guess, when you look at it that way. It *is* pretty awful."

"She's in such a vulnerable position, too. Made to spy on Hamlet by her father and Claudius. No one will help her. No one will stand up for her."

"Shouldn't she stand up for herself?"

Alex sighs. "She's so very young. She's a girl, in a time when girls were taught to be quiet and think as little as possible. She's... See, the way I think about Ophelia is as a beautiful but fragile flower. One that needs constant care and affection to blossom. And if she were given that care and affection, she would – oh, she would become the most gorgeous thing ever. But instead she's neglected, and used badly, and she withers away. Alone."

Alexis bites her lip fiercely, and he suddenly realizes he might have gone too far. Castle's daughter is easy to talk to, and smart, and sometimes he forgets that she's not actually an adult yet. That she doesn't have his or Beth's experience. And now, to add to that, she's just broken up with her first love.

"Until you change your mind on Ophelia, though," he adds a little hastily, trying to sound more cheerful, "may I have this dance?"

Philip is showing Beth the steps, one more time, and the music playing is Dana Glover's 'It Is You,' the soundtrack from Shrek. Alexis gives him a wide-eyed, slightly panicked look. "Me?"

He takes her hand and eases to his feet, bringing her up with him.

"We need to practice, you know. I believe I'm supposed to dance with the bridesmaids at some point?"

Alexis gives an incredulous laugh.

"Beth didn't say anything about that."

Is that a blush on her cheeks? Man, the girl is just adorable. He can't believe anyone would be stupid enough to break up with her.

"Well. _I _need the practice, anyway. So if you would be kind enough?"

He winks at her, and opens his arms. Alexis hesitantly moves forward, places a hand in his, and the other on his shoulder.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" He asks, noticing how instinctive her movements are. "Waltz, I mean."

"Um, yeah, a little. I was in dance my first two years of high school, and we got a sort of introduction to all the dances. I hardly remember any of it, though."

"It's pretty easy. It's in triple time, remember? I'm gonna start with my right foot, which means you should start with your left one." When she nods, he adds with a smile, "Just follow my lead."

The first couple steps are a bit awkward, because Alexis is focused on her feet, trying to get it right, and she's too tense. But as they twirl around the dance floor, she progressively relaxes, and he can see the exact moment when she starts enjoying herself, the smile awakening at the corner of her lips, the grip of her fingers on his shoulder loosening.

She's a good dancer, he finds, a natural. He lets the music guide their steps, hoping that it gets to Alexis the way it gets to him. That it cradles her, gently seeps into her soul, healing the cracks and the bruises.

When the song stops and friendly applause takes its place, he sees his partner blink in surprise, as if shaken out of a trance. He lets go of her hand, smiles to her; Alexis beams back, gratitude and joy pouring out of her eyes.

"Thanks," she says softly.

"I should be jealous," Beth says as she gets closer, the pleasure on her face belying her words. Castle's daughter almost blushes, but Beth adds, "You're a much better dancer than I am, Little Castle. Wish you could take my place."

The girl laughs; she looks from Beth to Alex and back, gives the future bride a sly grin. And shakes her head.

"No. No one could fill your shoes."

Alex watches her walk back to her book – her step lighter, he believes, hopes – then turns to Beth. He finds her looking at him with that so-soft expression, the one that tells him she knows exactly what he's been doing. And loves him for it.

She runs her hands up his chest, skimming the sides of his neck before she wraps her arms around it. For a moment, he thinks she's going to kiss him, but she lifts to her tiptoes to bring her mouth to his ear. The almost-caress of her lips makes him shiver.

"I can't wait to be married to you," she murmurs, and he closes his eyes in bliss, hugs her tight.

Yeah. He can't wait either.

* * *

><p>Alexis follows Beth into the girls' changing room, while Alex stays behind to ask their dance instructor a couple questions. She's found herself reading <em>Hamlet<em> with fresh eyes for the last half-hour of the dance class, scribbling notes about Ophelia and Hamlet's relationship, and her heart doesn't feel so heavy in her chest.

And she wants to tell Beth about it. She's not sure why – she just wants to let her know how great she thinks Alex is, how perfect a fit for her.

Yet she remains close-mouthed as Beth makes light comments about her lack of dancing skills, and how patient Philip is.

"Poor man," she laughs, "at some point I really thought he was going to give up on me. *I* would have, to be honest. Alex and his crazy ideas."

"I think it's pretty romantic," Alexis points out with a shy smile.

Beth glances at her, pulling a clean shirt over her head, and when the dark fabric is hugging her torso, the light in her eyes has changed, softened. "It is," she concedes quietly. "And you know I'm not really complaining, right? Alex –"

She seems at a loss for words for a second, and the temptation is too great for Castle's daughter to resist.

"He's right for you," she says, conviction carrying in her voice.

Beth stops shoving her clothes into bag to give her a look, somewhere between surprise and agreement. She tilts her head, studying Alexis, and asks, "What did you talk about? When he sat down with you?"

"Just, the play I'm reading. _Hamlet._ But he..." The girl chews on her lip, pushes her hair back as she tries to explain. "He reminded me of Dad. The way he made feel better, took my mind off things, without making it look like he was. That's just – so much like Dad. It's funny."

"Really?" Beth says, turning to face her, little sparks of amusement like will-o'-the-wisps in her dark green eyes. "Alex makes you think of your dad?"

"Well. Sometimes, yes. Like today. Why?"

The woman seems to struggle with her laughter, but it's like trying to lock a cage on a hungry lion – it gets out anyway.

"Alex makes me think of Kate," she explains, and Alexis stares at her in disbelief. Seriously?

"Why?" She can't help but ask.

"Oh, well – little things, I guess. Alex can be pretty guarded, you know? Not with me, but I've seen him with other people. And he's not very good at relationships in general. He's actually said as much to me. And Kate. . .Well, Kate's good at reading people, most of the time, but she's not always good at interacting with them."

Beth's lips curve with memories, her cheeks adorably flushed in the dim lights of the changing room.

"And Alex is...fairly cautious. With life. With everything. Sending his manuscript to Black Pawn was the biggest, most daring thing he's ever done in his life, he told me. He was literally frozen in terror when he got their answer in the mail."

"Oh," Alexis answers, understanding running through her veins. It's not exactly how she pictured him, but it makes sense. "Oh, I see."

"So, yeah. I'd say, between Alex and me, I'm the one who's more like your father. I think he and I have this same ability to brush off the things we don't like, and not let them matter. And people think we don't care, but it's not true, not exactly. While Kate and Alex – it's hard for them to get over something when it's upsetting them. They can take years to bounce back."

Castle's daughter is drinking in the words, tasting them, rolling them into her mouth to see if they fit. This is why she loves Beth so much; because Kate's sister always opens her eyes to new perspectives, and she's willing to discuss them for hours. She never treats Alexis like a child.

"So what about me?" The teenager asks slowly, when she's absorbed it all, made sense of it. "Am I more like you and Dad, or like Kate and Alex?"

Beth's eyes rest on her fondly; she hangs her bag on her shoulder, then hooks an arm around Alexis's neck, walking them towards the door.

"You're *you*," she tells the girl, pressing her cheek to her hair. "You're like no one else."

Alexis smiles, touched by the words.

But Beth is wrong. The girl's not even sure why she asked, since the knowledge is deep-seated in her heart, has always been there, it seems. She's like Kate.

And even though it means that the pain might linger a while, even though it means that she will never have Beth's easy way with life. . .

She can't find it in herself to mind.

She's like Kate.

* * *

><p>"Well, I won't say this is the weirdest place I've ever done it, but it may be a first for two different beds at one time."<p>

Kate presses two fingers against his mouth and arches an eyebrow, somehow deviantly sexy with her clothes half-pulled back on but her face a mask of rebuke.

"If it's not with me, I don't want to know about it," she says archly, then takes his mouth in a brutal kiss.

Breathless, head spinning, Castle rolls back on top of her, despite the clothes and the damp sheets and her biting teeth, presses her back against the mattress, aggressively goes after her. He feels her fingers digging into his hipbones, the thrust of her body upward into him, a last foray before it's time to leave.

When he lifts, lets her go, her eyes are glittering with need and fierceness, two separate entities that wind together and combust.

"You don't want there to be secrets between us, do you?" he says back, teasing.

"Everyone has secrets. Some I don't need to know. Some *you* don't need to know."

"Oh no, not-uh." Castle rocks his hips into hers, pleased with the flutter of her lashes and the catch in her breath. "I want to know everything, Kate. All of you."

"No you don't." She runs her hands up his sides, trails her fingers along his chest, circles his neck. "For instance, you don't want me to tell you how many times Will and I made love inside this cabin. Which places and what positions-"

He growls and claims her mouth, entirely pissed and thoroughly proven wrong, tries to annihilate all thoughts and memories of anyone but himself from her head. Especially now, especially here.

His tongue fills the wet cavern of her mouth; he drops his weight on her, his hands in her hair to hold her to him. She parts her thighs and hooks a calf around his leg, arching.

When he needs to breathe again, he breaks from her mouth, pants. "No previous lovers. Got it."

"Not even lovers," she murmurs, her mouth at his neck, her body thrumming. "No one has loved me like you."

And, God, she just. . .His eyes burn and holy hell she is not going to make him cry. Too, too unmanly. Esposito would kick his ass and call him Honeymilk.

Castle wraps his arms around her and pulls back to lay on his side, bringing her with him, cradling her close, all the fight gone out of him.

But the story has taken root in his head. It grows. "Did you and Will-?"

She laughs and bites his adam's apple. "No, baby. We didn't. You and me. Only."

"Did you call me baby?"

"I called you *a* baby. A big baby."

He grins back, slips his hand under her twisted, rucked up shirt, slides under the strap of her bra, fiddles with it.

"We have to go soon," she murmurs. "We can't spend the night."

"We could."

"No. Tomorrow morning is the bridesmaids' brunch and then the guys are doing something too-"

"Alex is coming over for poker with my Mystery Guild tomorrow night. Not tomorrow morning."

"No wait, I remember. Tomorrow morning is the tux fittings, Castle. You have to get-"

"Oh damn." He really wants to spend tonight with her here. He wants to make love to her on the back deck, screened by the trees, the chill of the air, the dark night. He wants to take her there where she would come back up from the lake so far away from him, so removed; he wants to repossess her. Because he's a man, at heart, no matter living with his women and raised by his mother - no, he's a man. And she's his.

"We can go back late," she says finally. "Get me home in time to get at least five hours of sleep - restful sleep - and I'll be good to go."

"That puts us here until. . .eleven?" he asks, trying to calculate in his head, glancing at her in confirmation.

Kate puts a hand under her head, watches him, amusement in her eyes, dark passion moving against the backdrop of her gaze. "Eleven it is. Now, Castle?"

"Yeah," he murmurs back, already feeling that buzz of warm and happy pleasure just looking at her in bed with him.

She draws her knee up and presses into him, making his heart falter as lust roars through him instead of tenderness, need instead of mere want.

"You still have all those terrible pictures in your head? Me and-"

He narrows his eyes at her and brings his hand to the back of her neck, squeezing. "Woman."

"Castle. Make me pay."

"You're gonna be sorry you said that," he growls, tugging her in close, scraping his teeth along her jaw, working his hand past the barrier of her jeans. "I know just what skin that dress you have to wear reveals. And I'm marking all of it."


	9. Chapter 9

**Heartlines  
><strong>

* * *

><p>She regrets it. Shit, no she doesn't. That idiotic, sexy-hot man.<p>

Kate swipes her finger down her neck, but the concealer isn't cutting it. Then there's the teeth marks on her chest, just above her scar. And some bruises that are actually her own damn fault when she yanked him back over her and they fell off the bench on the back deck. The two beds were just not enough for him, apparently.

Two beds at once. The back deck (ug, the splinters are brutal). Living room floor on the way back inside. She smirks, and well. . .he marked her pretty good, but Castle has a black eye from where he smacked into her knee as they fell. And. . .he still hasn't been able to look at Alexis in the face without blushing like a schoolgirl.

Kate has already explained to his daughter. (Briefly.) It's not like Alexis is clueless. All it takes is one look at Castle's mortified and silly face - his poor, bruised face - and everyone must know.

As they should. Castle is hers. He belongs to her. Everyone should know.

She unconsciously bites her bottom lip, winces at the taste of blood. Sticking her tongue against her mouth to puff it out, she checks out the damage in the mirror. She can't remember how it happened, but her lip is cracked; she didn't feel that till this morning.

Castle wraps loose arms around her waist from behind, yawning into her ear as he bends down for a kiss. She gets a sloppy, mouth-open greeting at her neck, but she smiles at him in the mirror, lifts her hand to his messy bedhead.

"Hey there," she murmurs, caressing the soft shell of his ear.

He vibrates against her, wordless happiness, but his body is still gentle, soothing. "Didn't really mean to leave you so. . .marked," he sighs.

"It didn't hurt," she laughs, kissing his cheek. His stubble scratches at her lips and she winces, brushes her palm flat against it. "Shave. That *will* hurt."

He holds his head away from her at that, smooths his fingers over her hip. She glances down, finds another few brusies. "Kate. I can't exactly say I'm sorry. I'm not. Is that bad?"

She grins at him, their eyes meeting in the mirror, noises from the rest of the people out there in his loft trickling back to them. Their little bubble of privacy will soon be gone, but she likes the glow of possession in his eyes, the fierce male urgency of last night, and the gentle regard of his hands this morning.

His. Hers.

Kate turns in his arms and links her hands at his back, sways a little with him, kissing the flat line of his collarbone, his neck, then scraping her bottom teeth lightly against the scruffy place at his jaw.

"It's not bad at all. When I'm running down a suspect or when I'm going flat out in combat training, you think this even makes me stop for a second? A bruise? A scratch?"

"Hell no. You're a beast."

She laughs and tilts her head. "That was a compliment?" He looks surprised she has to ask; she's not really asking. "Of course it was, wasn't it? Hmm. Well. There you go. Anything you dish out, I can take, Rick Castle."

"Oh I noticed," he intones, his voice that low and rough growl. It makes her shiver. In a good way.

"Now. I have a brunch I have to get to, but first I need to pick a different dress."

"No way," he complains, drawing closer. "You're supposed to wear that blue one with the thin straps. All this has to show-"

She laughs at him again, finds it just like a wellspring in her, this amusement and joy. "Castle. You bit me."

"It's a lovebite."

"I can see your individual teethmarks in my skin."

"You were doing wicked things to me."

"Yes I was," she murmurs, lifting up on her toes, distracted again by the heat of him, that voice, damn, that voice that weaves into her, unthreads her nerves and lights everything ablaze.

"You gotta go, Kate," he murmurs back, into her kiss, his tongue like velvet.

"I gotta go," she sighs.

Castle puts her away, pushing on her shoulders; their mouths pop wetly and they both laugh, dispelling some of the crackling electricity.

"Okay. I need a dress-"

A banging on their bedroom door makes them both jump. Castle, the one mostly dressed in his jeans and half-buttoned shirt, heads back into the bedroom to answer it. Kate turns to their walk-in closet and pulls out a few dresses, including that blue one Castle mentioned which she intended to wear.

She can hear part of the conversation.

"I drew the short straw," his daughter is saying.

Kate grins and steps into the bottom of the blue dress, adjusts her bra, slides the straps over her shoulders, then quickly heads for the doorway. Alexis has slipped inside, is watching her father knot his tie, her back against the doorframe.

"Hey, Lex. Beth said you went dancing with them last night?"

"I did," Alexis laughs, blushing. Kate can't tell if it's because of the bite on her chest, the bruise on her father's face, or the dancing. "Alex taught me the waltz."

Castle swivels his head from the floor-length mirror to his daughter. "He did? Was it fun?"

"It was great," Alexis says, something sad in her eyes.

Kate bumps her hip into Castle in front of the mirror so she can see her reflection, works on getting her dress right. Ung. This is not going to work. Castle drops a hand to her shoulder, brushes his finger over the redened skin at her collarbone. She narrows her eyes at him but he's looking at Alexis intently.

Kate turns and looks at his daughter too, finds her holding back tears. On instinct, Kate jerks away from the mirror and wraps both arms around Alexis's neck, pulling her in close.

"Oh, whoa, Lex, what's going on?" Kate lifts her eyes to Castle in question, but he looks baffled, and irritated, and something else that she-

Oh. She kinda cut in front of him. Oops. Kate unwraps an arm and holds it out to him; Castle sighs and buries them both in a massive, rib-crunching hug.

"Alexis," he murmurs. "You broke up with Ashley."

"Yeah," she cracks, shoulders hunched.

Kate glances to Castle. How did he know that? His eyes seem to be saying _I can tell._

"You want to talk to your dad," Kate says, sliding her arm out from under Castle's crushing hug, trying to slip away.

"No," Alexis says, shaking her head. "I'm done talking. I'm good. Better now."

Kate can tell she's not better, but Castle is releasing her, tugging on Kate's elbow for her to let go as well. She doesn't want to. She wants to make Alexis talk, which is hypocritical of her, and she knows it, and she doesn't even care.

"Alexis-" she starts, even though she really shouldn't, it's not her place.

"I got to dance last night. And we talked about Ophelia," Alexis rushes on, filling up the space before Kate can ask. "And it was good. I'm okay. Beth is getting married, and now we have to go to the bridesmaids' brunch, Kate, so. . .are you really wearing that?"

Castle laughs and drops back down on the bed; Kate gives him a healthy glare.

"It's your fault."

"You asked for it."

"Oh, jeez, parents, too much information!" Alexis claps both hands over her ears and gives Kate a look. "You shouldn't encourage him." Her face ripens into a blush and she closes her eyes. "Oh no, I didn't mean like that. Whatever you do - between you - oh my gosh, no-"

Kate's mouth drops open; she looks at the girl's father, floored by Alexis's rambling. "Lex."

"You can do whatever you want. I mean, it looks painful, but I'm sure you-"

Castle is absolutely rolling with laughter. Kate struggles to keep it off her face, out of her ribs (because it still hurts to laugh too hard), and she reaches out and takes Alexis by the shoulders.

"Lex. Let me stop you there, before you dig that hole any deeper."

Alexis shuts up with another bright red tint to her face, nods, breathes deeply, her eyes avoiding Kate's.

"Okay, your honest opinion. If I wear this, put on a little more concealer, you think I can play it off as the perils of the job?"

Alexis glances between them, then steps back from Kate as if assessing her. "So long as no one sees him-" she jabs a thumb towards her father "-then you should be okay. But when they see Dad's black eye, and the bite on his neck, they're all gonna know."

"Hey!" Castle jumps up, pushing past Kate to get to the mirror. "Bite on my neck! Kate!"

* * *

><p>Castle corners Alex Conrad in the kitchen after all the girls leave. He's giving Rick that nervous, <em>what is this about<em> grin.

"Hey, Alex. I heard you danced with my daughter yesterday."

Alex chokes on his toast but swallows it down with a gulp. "Yes, sir."

Castle lets the grin break out on his face, claps his hand on Conrad's shoulder. "You made her happy."

"I did?"

"You know you did. Thank you."

Conrad bobs his head, brushes toast crumbs off his hands. "She was. . .you know about her and Ashley?"

"Yeah, she told me. I couldn't be here, so I'm grateful to you for doing what you could, Alex."

The younger writer looks at him funny, then nods again, picking up his coffee mug and wrapping his fingers around it. "It earned me points with Beth too," he grins. "But that's not why I did it."

Castle leans back against the counter, crosses his arms over his chest. "I know. I know the kind of guy you are, which is why you were ever even allowed within teen feet of Beth-"

Alex chokes again and laughs, rubbing a hand down his face. "Ah, well, thanks?"

"You're going to be a good father, Alex."

The man drops his mug; it bounces, flinging hot coffee in all directions. Castle doesn't move, doesn't even flinch as it sprays, although Alex immediately jumps back and starts cursing.

Castle watches. That was interesting. "Is she pregnant?" he asks.

"What?" Conrad jerks up from his hunched position, the mug in his hand again, dangling by his finger. "No! No. Oh my gosh, no."

"Oh. Well, you kinda freaked out there."

"I would love for - no, I mean. She's not pregnant, but we want kids eventually. Much later. And. We just. We had this conversation maybe three hours ago. So it's just. . .spooky. We want to travel together, have some time for us before we think about kids. Holy crap, you scared me."

Castle chuckles, leans over and grabs the dishcloth from the handle of the oven, drops it down over the worst of the spill.

"Thank you for saying that, though," Alex continues, clearing his throat and grabbing paper towels. "Sorry for destroying your kitchen in the process."

"It'll be fine. Kate hates the tile in here anyway."

Alex laughs and wipes at the coffee staining his jeans. "Well. Okay. Shoot. I'll have to change pants, and my shirt too. Before we go."

"Tux fitting and then what's after that?"

"Nothing until your. . .poker game."

"You'll be fine. You're a mystery writer too," Castle adds, grabbing more paper towels and mopping up a puddle that Alex has missed.

"Yeah, but there's no way I'm even in your league."

"Talk like that will get you nowhere. You're good. You should know that by now. I mean, Beth reads your stuff, doesn't she?"

Alex pauses, glances up at him. "Yeah. So?"

"So. Beth doesn't even read my novels. Well, the ones based on Kate, she does. But nothing else. She's picky. Pickier than Kate. Who's kinda in love with me, so she's a little biased."

"Same goes for Beth," Alex says indignantly. "And your stuff is so good. All these layers, meanings to things. Especially knowing the two of you, it just-"

Castle holds up a hand, grinning. "Not fishing for compliments here. Just saying. Beth read your book before you guys were serious about each other. You know? And Beth has some strict standards. So you must be good. Surely you respect your own woman's opinion."

Alex dumps coffee-soaked paper towles into the trash can. "I'm going to say yes, but add the disclaimer that she's not my woman. Just in case she can somehow hear this conversation."

Castle chuckles, throws the dishcloth into the sink. "Kate's mine. She knows it."

Alex regards him dryly for a second. "I think we all know it now, thank you very much for that."

If Castle were holding a coffee mug, it'd be splattered on the floor now as well. Instead he laughs and touches the tender spot at his eye. "It's noticeable?"

"Oh holy hell, man. It's a neon sign!"

"Damn. It won't be gone in time for the wedding."

"What did you *do*?" Alex uses his foot on the paper towel to mop up coffee. "Wait. Do I want to know? Will I be able to look your partner, my fiance's own sister, in the face after you tell me this?"

"It was just her knee. We fell. Off a bench out-"

"No. No no no. No more."

Castle grins wickedly. "All right. Your loss. Might learn something, son."

Conrad rolls his eyes, stoops down to gather the paper towels. "Don't need any pointers, thanks. No complaints from the other Beckett sister."

Castle laughs. Point for Conrad. "Come on, Alex. Let's finish cleaning this up and get over to the rental shop. Kate would probably kill me if I said anything more anyway."

* * *

><p>Kate is proud of herself for not saying a word about the breakup with Ashley during the drive to the French restaurant that Lucie found. She focuses on the road instead, pushes the words back down her throat fiercely, giving Alexis one-syllable answers when the girl tells her about the waltz last night, about the Chinese dinner she and Beth cooked.<p>

If Castle doesn't feel the need to interrogate his daughter, then she shouldn't.

Except –

No. No, Kate Beckett, not your job.

When she's married to Castle, then maybe. When they're married. Oh god.

When did the thought of being married to Richard Castle become *normal*? Normal enough to only generate these quiet little flutters in her stomach?

An empty parking spot distracts her from these disturbing considerations, and she pulls over deftly, smiling in satisfaction. Rick said not to take the car, that she'd never manage to park close. It seems like once again, she's proven him wrong.

Alexis is out of the car in seconds; she seems pretty excited about the whole thing. And "pretty excited" is a euphemism. Seething with excitement would be more accurate.

These are the moments when her resemblance to her dad is the strongest, no doubt about it.

"Have you never been a bridesmaid before?" Kate asks curiously as they start walking to the restaurant.

She honestly doesn't think it's such an amazing thing. Or maybe the fifth and sixth times got the better of her enthusiasm. That's possible. Although, it's different this time. Of course.

Because it's Beth.

Alexis wrinkles her nose, saving Kate from wondering what her mom would say if she was here.

"I was a bridesmaid when Dad and Gina got married, but I was only eleven, so that was like ages ago. And besides..." She chews on her lower lip, slides a glance to Kate as if to make sure this is a suitable topic.

The detective lifts her eyebrows, gives her a faint smile of encouragement. She really doesn't mind hearing about Meredith or Gina. Castle says jokingly that his two marriages feel like another life, like a bad dream that he's woken from. A long-gone shadow.

He says that this – them – this is the real thing. And she believes him.

Her lips quirk as she remembers yesterday, the two beds together. No one else. No one else ever.

"I never really liked Gina," Alexis lets out in a rushed breath, as if it's wrong. "She was always nice to me, but I – I didn't like the way she talked to Dad. Always so bossy, you know, like she thought he was her slave or something. And he just – let it go. All the time. That was so annoying. I wanted him to stand up to her, but he always acted like he didn't care. At the beginning, anyway."

Kate smiles, her heart warming at Alexis's indignation, at her eagerness to take her father's side and jump to his defence. She hooks a loose arm around the girl's waist, squeezes affectionately.

"You're a good daughter, Alexis."

"I think I just...wanted more for him, you know? I didn't want him to _settle_ for anyone. He was always my dad, always this fun, amazing, slightly crazy guy, and I – I thought he deserved better."

"Someone he would love," Kate agrees quietly.

"Someone who'd love him back," Alexis finishes, giving her such a meaningful look that her heart tightens, thumps harder in her chest.

"Think he's found that?" She can't help but ask, pressing her lips together, trying to keep them from curving into a smile.

"I don't think you need me to tell you," Castle's daughter answers, slyness lining the tenderness on her face. She winds her arm around Kate's waist, rests her head on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Kate."

All the words die in Kate's throat, melt on her tongue, her own thanks strangled by the emotion that wraps so tightly around her heart. She can do nothing but cradle Alexis to her side, let her lips brush across the soft red hair.

She's done nothing to deserve this. But she closes her eyes anyway and hangs on tight, with a sad, bittersweet thought for her own mother.

She'll be that to Alexis, if the girl lets her. She'll be anything, anything, she promises silently, fierce and determined. Anything they need her to be.

Alexis and –

The others. Castle and hers.

The little ghosts crowding her mind, her heart, waiting to be acknowledged. To be given an existence, a breath, a voice.

Oh, god. She didn't think it was possible to want something so bad, and the strength, the depth of her need winds her, breaks her open, leaves her trembling and raw on the sidewalk.

"Kate?"

There's a hint of concern to Alexis's voice, and Kate answers her question by tightening her hold on the girl, warm and reassuring.

Nothing's wrong. Too much happiness, is all.

Kate Beckett doesn't do happiness.

Well, that's not true exactly. Kate Beckett didn't use to do happiness. Not until she met Richard Castle. And since then...She's been learning. She's learning still.

Joy crackles in her, little sparks flying around and lighting her whole being, and she knows she's beaming.

But no matter how hard she tries, there's no getting that smile off her face.

* * *

><p>"I propose a toast," Lucie says with a cheeky smile, lifting her wine glass, "to Beth Beckett. My best friend. Alex had better try his hardest to deserve you."<p>

Beth laughs along with Kate and Alexis, and they all clink their glasses together before drinking. The wine – a dry white, because Lucie doesn't like red – is delicious, and Beth savors it, lets it roll down her throat as slow as she can before she opens her eyes again. She gives a little sympathetic smile to Alexis, who is merely drinking water, but the girl doesn't seem to mind.

Le Cercle Rouge is a fancy brasserie in Tribeca, and Beth loves how much it reminds her of France, the old-fashioned posters for Les Folies-Bergères on the wall, the huge mirror that makes the room bigger. The waiter is much nicer than the ones she was used to in Paris, though – a tall, friendly guy, who keeps making jokes and reminds her vaguely of Castle - a little goofy, really earnest.

"Nice place, Luce," she comments with a happy smile.

"Thought you might like it," her friend shoots back with a wink.

"I do. I love it."

A rush of nostalgia runs through Beth, tugs at her heart. She loves New York, and she's enjoyed these months of rediscovering the city, making it her own again. But she cannot deny that her travelling instincts are starting to kick in now, the beast waking up, demanding to be fed.

Well. They *do* have a honeymoon planned – a month travelling through Asia, Thailand and China for sure, and probably Indonesia (she managed to convince Alex to keep some of it open, which is no small feat, because he *likes* planning things). And then, who knows?

"So," Lucie says, her dark eyes sparkling. "I think maybe the bride is expected to give a little speech here."

Beth groans in mock despair, but everyone turns to her, Kate giving her that sly smile, and she just has to do it now.

"Well," she says, cradling the glass of wine in her hand and looking at it for inspiration. "Let's start with the obvious, and thank you girls for coming. For being a part of this. I couldn't have dreamt of a better group," she smiles, glad to catch the flash of pride and joy that crosses Alexis's blue eyes.

"Also, I should probably thank you for putting up with me and all the – shall we say it? – last minute preparation. I know I'm not very good at organization (yes, Kate, you can roll your eyes), so thanks for your ability to make up for this. It's greatly appreciated."

"Does that mean we don't even get paid? Darn," Lucie complains laughingly. "And here I was, thinking I was going to get rich. Maybe I should start a career as a wedding planner. I see great opportunities before me."

"And just as many mother-in-laws waiting to contradict and argue with you," Beth points out, arching an eyebrow.

"Mmh. True. Maybe this career change isn't my best idea after all. I should just stick to what I know."

"From what I've heard, you're a pretty good translator," Kate adds with a smile, tilting her head. The sun streaming through the window catches in her chestnut curls, caresses the side of her face; Beth finds herself a little breathless. The soft light, the unguardedness of Kate's eyes make her look just like Johanna Beckett.

Lucie laughs, manages to sound both flattered and modest. "Ah, don't listen to Beth; she's not the most impartial judge. And I wouldn't take credit for it anyway – I just love the words. I'm so lucky, to get to play with them for a living."

"I know someone else who would fully agree," Kate says, glancing at Alexis for confirmation or support. The angle of her face changes and the resemblance lessens; Beth is able to detach her eyes from her sister, look at Castle's daughter instead.

"Oh, Dad definitely loves words. A little too much, sometimes. You should hear him talk about the merits of 'svelte'. Can last for _hours_." Alexis chuckles, then cuts her eyes to Lucie, hesitates. "So, um, Lucie? How did you and Beth meet, exactly?"

Uh-oh. Lucie *loves* telling that story. Damn. Beth cannot think of a way to escape. Her friend looks at her, gloating, that Cheshire cat smile on her face.

"I was hoping you'd ask," she says delightedly, leaning forward a little as if preparing to share a big secret. Alexis opens wide, eager eyes, and Beth feels a sudden urge to disappear.

"Maybe it's time for me to go to the bathroom," she says quickly, lifting herself from her chair as she speaks.

"Oh, no, Elizabeth," Lucie opposes firmly. She hooks her fingers through the waist band of Beth's skirt, tugs her back down. "You stay right where you are."

"My name's not Elizabeth," the future bride mutters stubbornly.

"Is it not? Funny, I was under the impression that it was the name on your passport," her friend volleys back.

A suspicious sound erupts on Beth's right; she lifts her eyes to glare at her sister, who is, no doubt, responsible for that little snort of laughter.

"Sorry," Kate says, though she doesn't look sorry at all.

The little commotion attracts their waiter back; he smiles at them, asks if they're ready to order.

"Yes," Beth exclaims, grateful for any interruption. "Yes, I think we are."

Lucie gives her a look that says "you can delay all you want but I'm still telling that story," and then turns to the waiter – Tom – with her most charming smile to ask what the soup of the day is.

Ordering takes entirely too little time, and Tom is gone again within moments, leaving Beth defenceless against the next attack. She will just have to suffer through it.

"Back to my most excellent story," Lucie says, commanding the attention of the table.

"Yes, we all want to hear this," Alexis pipes up. Beth shoots her a mock glare, but Alexis is grinning. She hasn't seen the girl so. . .carefree in awhile. It's good to see. She hopes that means that Katie has been talking to her.

"Right, so you know Liz worked for that sleazy hotel in Paris when she first arrived-"

"Don't make it sound so glamorous," Beth grouses.

Kate swivels her head to her sister; Beth winces. "Sleazy? Bethie. . ."

"Katie, I had to work. I hadn't gotten my. . .what's it called, Lucie? Work visa here."

"_Permis de travail_. Right. So I'd just dumped, thoroughly dumped, my boyfriend JD-"

Alexis laughs. "JD? That doesn't sound French at all."

Lucie waves it off. "So here I am, single again, and completely without a place to stay in Paris. No apartment. It's freezing cold. So I figure, what the hell, I've got to stay somewhere. So I get a room in this awful hotel-"

"It's called a motel here," Beth interrupts, glaring at her friend. "When it's that bad."

"Motel?" Lucie rolls the word around on her tongue. "Ah, right. Yes. Motel. So I'm in this room and it's one of those extended-stay places."

"Those are hotels," Kate argues. "An extended stay would be a hotel."

Beth sighs dramatically. "Katie."

"I'm just saying-"

"Thank you, Kate," Lucie says primly, shooting Beth a look through her lashes. "Someone is trying to help."

"I'm not helping you tell this terrible story. Besides, you always get the details wrong and make me sound like a complete idiot."

"Okay, enough bickering. I want to know what happens," Alexis says, holding her hand up to Beth.

Beth laughs but Lucie is already plowing head.

"So I'm in my suite about to heat up noodles on the little hot plate. I turn the water on to run it over the cup of noodles and this brackish water comes spewing out-"

"Oh my word. Get *on* with it," Beth growls.

"Hush, Bethie," Kate says, leaning in to shoot her a stern look. Two parts NYPD detective and about one part big sister; it makes Beth laugh to see it.

"And then the sink is literally coming apart in my hands. No, not the sink. The uh, what do you - the faucet. The faucet just comes right off in my hands, and so now there's water gurgling out the tap and spraying from where the handle should be, so I immediately call down to the front desk-"

"Where I'm working. My second day of work, mind you," Beth adds.

"And when I say, 'The sink is broken and water is pouring out everywhere' she says, 'What am I supposed to do about that?'" Lucie starts laughing, little breathless things as she tries to keep it under control.

"I did not. I said that you should've called the maintenance number because I didn't have any way to help you-"

"Only, your French was atrocious-"

"It was passable. But I'd forgotten that the maintenance guy left at eight that night and it was nearly ten and I couldn't - just could not get fired. So I thought - how hard can this be? Dad's a handy guy, always fixing stuff-"

"So here she comes into my room with one of those rain ponchos draped over her clothes, her head; she's swallowed up in it. She hands me one and says not to worry; she's got it. But it quickly becomes apparent that she doesn't have it at all, and there's both of us battling this erupting sink-"

"I got fired for that. I came running back down to the lobby soaking wet and called the manager and of course he fired me."

"Beth," Kate laughs.

"So," Lucie continues. "I hear him screaming at her - half of it she didn't even get, with her terrible French-"

"I knew every word he said!" Beth interrupts. "My French slang was much better than my formal. That's why whenever I answered the front desk phone, I sounded like an idiot."

"So I hear him yelling at Beth - the whole hotel hears it - and I run downstairs too - the plumber is already fixing the sink; they've moved me to a new room. I grab Beth - Beth is yelling back that she quits-"

"Only, I'm yelling at him in English because I was pissed off-"

"-and I guide her back to my new room and-"

"And we stayed up all night talking while the plumber worked on the pipes and the manager had to man the front desk and we were both soaking wet."

"She borrowed some of my clothes. Which I never got back, thank you very much, Lizzie."

"You lie."

"I do not-"

"You guys are hilarious," Alexis interrupts. "Did Lucie move in with you after that?"

Beth nods, splitting her attention from Lucie to look at Little Castle. "Yeah. We just clicked. I helped her carry everything over to my place - it was just a studio apartment - and she helped me get the job at the hotel-"

"Not a motel this time, I hope," Kate says.

Beth grins at her overbearing, overprotective sister. Whom she loves. To pieces. "Yeah, Katie. A real hotel. Lucie schooled me in French and I taught her English idioms."

"The best words-" Lucie sighs.

"Like what?" Alexis says excitedly. Like her father. Like Alex.

Alex. Beth grins and takes a sip of her wine, watching Alexis interrogate her friend Lucie for the 'best' words in English.

When she was alone in Paris back then, disconnected from her unapproachable older sister and recently motherless, alone and needing a job to keep her apartment, needing a friend-

She found a sister. Lucie was everything that Kate couldn't be for her, but in a completely different way. Beth wasn't the best sister to Kate either, running away the moment she turned eighteen and denying her mother's memory, her mother's heritage, everything.

But now here they all are. Lucie in the States for Beth's wedding to a man (a writer) who she met through her sister's partner. Her amazingly resilient, beautiful sister.

Beth turns her head, catches Kate watching Alexis with a soft and yearning look. She snags her sister's hand and squeezes.

Kate glances at her, smiles distractedly, but Beth impulsively throws her arms around her sister.

"I love you, Katie."


	10. Chapter 10

**Heartlines**

* * *

><p>Castle jostles with Alex Conrad on the sidewalk, good-naturedly teasing the groom-to-be. Alex's college friend, James, takes up the ribbing, extolling the virtues of married life.<p>

After awhile, Alex ducks away from them and catches up to the cousin who is his third groomsman, an arm around the younger man's shoulders. The boy has just come into the city for the wedding. Reid is walking Alexis down the aisle, Alex mentioned, which Castle thinks might be good for her. A cute college boy who has to pay her some attention. Plus Reid seems to be a good guy.

"Hey, now that we've got the tuxes," Castle starts. "I booked us massages at a day spa."

Alex turns around and laughs. "You did what?"

"The girls get to have lunch and gossip, and what do we get? Tuxedos? Not good enough. We're going to get full body massages."

Castle gestures to the day spa down the block. He picked it because it was strategically located near the tailor's, and they know his name there.

"You guys ready for this?"

James stands next to him, eyeing his friend. "Alex is afraid."

"I am not!" Alex says hotly, his cousin stopping at his side.

Reid grins. "Yeah, you are, ya pansy."

Castle stalks closer, gripping Alex's neck. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Alex."

"I'm not afraid. Don't listen to them-"

"Don't listen to the guy who's been your best friend for the last ten years?" James laughs and slaps Alex on the back.

"Yeah, what does he know?" Reid grins. "I remember that time-"

"You shut your mouth," Alex warns, punching Reid in the shoulder.

"No, no," Castle separates them with a shove. "I gotta hear this."

"No. We're going to get massages," Alex interrupts. "Now lead on, Rick."

* * *

><p>Castle never does get to hear the story. They're in white robes relaxing on lounge chairs, waiting to be called back, when Castle hears something else.<p>

Someone else.

The men and women are separated, but Castle gets up, tilting his head at the voice, tightening the belt on his robe. One of the employees, a man in a white polo and kahkis, tries to stop him at the connecting doorway that leads to the other side.

Castle, blocked by the competent-looking man in front of him, turns a frustrated eye towards the room beyond but the man steps into his line of sight as well.

Forget this.

"Kate!" he bellows, because he can hear her voice.

There's a moment of absolute silence and then strained laughter, a few women glancing his way from just over the employee's shoulder.

"Kate-"

"Castle."

He bodily moves the man in front of him and finds Kate in a similar white robe, bare-footed with her hair piled up on top of her head. She's frowning at him.

"Lower your voice," she hisses at him. "It's a spa, not a sporting event."

Castle grins and steps forward to catch her up in a hug. But the guy he moved out of the way is back, and intercepts him with a body block.

Kate puts a hand on the guy's shoulder. "It's okay. He's my - he's mine."

Castle grins like an idiot as the guy steps back, ignoring the employee's little speech about the women's section being off-limits, and moving in to wrap his arms around Kate.

"I'm yours," he murmurs into her ear.

"You are. Don't you forget it," she laughs back, apparently not as put out with him as she pretended to be. "You don't need to yell for me, Castle. You'd have seen me in a few hours anyway."

"Yeah, but I was excited to hear your voice," he whines, turning his head to kiss her cheek. He steps back, giving her space, and she leads him to a wooden bench on the women's side, pushing him down.

"That's ridiculous, Castle." But she sits beside him and twines her fingers with his. "You big idiot."

"Yeah, but I love you."

She laughs and turns her face to him; he loves the hair piled up like that, half-falling down, lazy and dissheveled like she's just gotten out of his bed.

"I think it's supposed to be, 'Yeah, but you love me.'"

"Oh, I think you already know that," he murmurs, lifting a finger to stroke her cheek.

"Um-hmm." She lifts a brow and quirks her lips at him. "What are you doing here, Castle?"

"The boys are getting massages."

"You knew we were here."

"No, actually, I didn't."

"Alexis asked you about this place, remember? About four weeks ago?"

He tilts his head, thinks back. "Oh. *That's* why she brought that up? I didn't know it was because you guys were coming here."

"And so then it put it in your head, and voila-"

"Voila. Here I am," he grins. "You should be. . .a detective."

"You shouldn't steal ideas from your daughter," she says, thumping his knee with their tangled fingers. "That's. . .plagiarism."

He gasps and puts a hand to his chest. "Low blow."

She grins and twitches an eyebrow, then reaches up with her free hand to smooth a thumb over his lips. "Okay, Rick. You've seen me. Now go back to your boys, get your massage."

He doesn't want to. He wants to follow her around, be the one to put his hands on her, knead the muscles of her back, her thighs, massage her body. He wants to-

"Later," she whispers, and her thumb brushes over his lips before following it with a kiss. She stands up, gets ready to move away.

He catches her wrist, plants his mouth there to feel the erratic thump of her pulse.

"I do love you," she says, squeezing his fingers before slipping them out of his grasp.

"You better. Cause you're gonna marry me."

She tosses a smile over her shoulder as she walks away, wriggling the fingers of her left hand in both good-bye and a reminder.

No ring yet.

He's working on that.

* * *

><p>Kate gets copiously teased when she gets back to the luxuriously warm, turquoise water, Lucie and Beth joking about separation anxiety and how sometimes distance is a good thing ("And how did Castle get that black eye anyway?"). Kate drops the towel, her swimsuit still damp, and steps down into the whirlpool.<p>

Kate meets Alexis's eye, and the girl smiles and blushes at the same time, as if she can't decide between embarrassment and the pleasure of knowledge, of being in on the secret.

"Did Dad actually follow us here?" She asks, looking disbelieving and somewhat disturbed.

Kate laughs. "No," she answers, arching an eyebrow over at her sister. "He brought Alex and the guys here as a…bonding experience? He didn't know we'd be here, although he probably chose this place because Alexis asked about it last month."

"Alex is here?"

The glimmer of interest in Beth's eyes is unmistakable. Kate finds herself smirking; her sister can tease all she wants, but when it comes down to it, she's just as bad as Kate. Which is reassuring. Sort of.

Not really. The Beckett sisters are doomed.

Lucie distracts her by elbowing Beth, mock reprobation on her face.

"No no no, missy," she scolds. "You don't get to see your fiancé today. This is girl time, Liz. You can survive without Alex Conrad for a whole day, trust me."

Beth sticks her tongue at her, grabs Alexis – who is relaxing, her back to the massaging spray – and puts the girl in front of herself as a shield. From the way Castle's daughter seems to be containing her laughter, she obviously doesn't mind.

"Alexis is my only true friend here," Beth claims, narrowing her eyes. "Maybe I only need one bridesmaid after all."

Kate turns to Lucie, shrugs. "What do you think? Would you mind not walking down the aisle, wearing a debatable green dress, and standing up in front of people you don't know through a boring ceremony?"

"Hey now –" Beth objects indignantly, but Lucie's already saying, "Jeez, when you put it that way, I sure don't. Shall we move on to one of those lovely steam rooms, leave them here?"

"Agreed," Kate nods, letting Lucie link arms with her as they step out of the pool. The two grab their robes and shrug them on, deliberately slowly.

"You can't walk out on me," Beth threatens, laughter shining in her voice. "This is *my* wedding. My day."

"Oh?" Kate says, pretending to be surprised as she holds the door to the steam room open for Lucie. "Well, it seems like we're doing it anyway."

And she steps inside, closes the door, a sly smile on her lips. If she's not mistaken, Beth is going to join them in three, two, one –

The glass door opens again, giving a little squeak under the forceful shove. Beth and Alexis in their robes as well.

"Okay, okay," the future bride lets out reluctantly, trying to look haughty and failing dramatically. "Maybe I can re-hire you, after all. We might need some help." She tilts her head, asks, "Alexis, what do you think?"

"In my experience," Castle's daughter says, sliding out of her robe, pretending to think as she takes her place on one of the mosaic-covered seats (the steam room has an oriental look to it, and is actually rather gorgeous), "It's always good to be merciful."

"Wise words," Beth approves gravely.

"Fine, fine," Lucie laughs, pulling her to a bench. "We'll be your bridesmaids. Now get in here before all the steam is gone."

* * *

><p>Kate comes back from the spa alone. Alexis took the cab to meet friends and Beth was going to dinner with Lucie. So Kate flips the lock behind her and takes off her shoes, then heads for the sounds emanating from the kitchen.<p>

Castle is in bare feet and jeans, one of his black dress shirts stretched across his broad shoulders, standing in front of the bar and pouring salsa into a bowl.

She grins and catches his eye as he turns to look at her; he closes the lid on the jar and puts it down. His arms come around her before she can sneak a chip, his mouth descending to hers.

He tastes like salsa himself, and it gives her tongue a kick of flavor. She growls and breaks the kiss to lick his lips, startling him; she feels his hands clutch at her, his body shiver.

"Kate," he groans, open-mouthed against her cheek, breathing hard just from that.

She grins. Steam room always makes her feel pliable and sensual.

"I've got the mystery writers over tonight for poker."

"Damn."

He laughs, a rather strangled sound, and rubs his hands up and down her back. "And Alex too, remember? A kind of professional-writers bachelor party."

"Yeah, I forgot." She really wanted to take him to bed, drag him back to their room and stay in all night. With everyone gone. . .

"When do they get here?"

"Soon. Twenty minutes or so."

"Is that enough time?" she murmurs, mostly to herself.

He laughs. "Kate-"

"No, I know." What is she supposed to do? She can't stay here. "Oh, actually. I should call Lanie. We haven't talked in ages."

"Yeah, yeah, do that." Castle slides his hands under her shirt a little, feathers his fingers over her ribs. "That's good."

She leans into him for a moment longer, enjoying the feel of his body crowded close to hers. "We should stop."

"Hmm." He must not be able to stop either.

It's like they've already - but they haven't. She doesn't have a ring, and she doesn't want one until Beth is married (still, that's _soon), _but she can't keep from touching him, seeking him out, wanting him like they've just gotten engaged.

Oh jeez. They'll be engaged. Soon. Hopefully soon.

"We could lock the door, make a do not disturb sign," he rumbles, his mouth at her neck, traveling down.

"Yeah," she says automatically, not thinking, not able to think, and then jerks away from him. "No. No, you have to do this for Alex. And I haven't talked to Lanie in way too long. Since before this summer, really."

"Yeah, I can tell."

She cuts her eyes back to him. "You can tell?"

"Lanie's been. . .less than friendly. I think she thinks it's my fault that you haven't gotten in touch with her."

"I've been in touch, just not-" Kate shrugs, but it hits her that she's got a lot to make up for. Not just her family - this man who loves her, and his daughter who loves her as well - but her friends that she slighted all summer. Lanie and the boys. Although with the boys, all is forgiven. They're easy.

"Stop seducing me, and go call Lanie," Castle says, nudging her away with a knee. She shoots him a glare, but there's no real heat in it, just love. And she knows it.

Does *he* know it? Surely by now. . .Still.

"Castle," she says quickly, reaching out to catch his forearm, gripping him, her fingers circling. "I love you. You know that. Right?"

The easy amusement wipes off his face in a second, replaced with a depth in his eyes and a gravity to his mouth that stuns her. Even though she started it.

"I know, Kate. I've never doubted it."

Her chest eases; she lets go of him and steps back because if she doesn't, they really will wind up in their bed. Or right here on the counter. She has that little control around him anymore.

She swallows; her mouth dry. "Lanie." As if she has to remind herself.

* * *

><p>Their thing is usually to go for drinks at a bar or a club somewhere, check out the fish swimming in schools or skulking like sharks, the two women disdaining any real attempts but willing to have drinks bought for them for however long it lasts. But not tonight.<p>

Kate and Lanie go to a sushi place for dinner, pick over their California rolls and kappa without saying much at first. Kate can tell that her friend is still seething, and it doesn't take long before Lanie drops the politeness and starts pointing her chopsticks at Kate.

"Why the hell haven't you even called me?" Lanie starts.

"I-"

"You think I don't understand? That you need space? You think I don't get it?"

"I know-"

"And damn, girl, Castle? What the hell you trying to do to that poor man?"

And even though she shouldn't, she has no right, indignation rises in Kate. "I already-"

"I was the one crouched on top of your skinny white ass, trying to keep you alive long enough to make it to the ER. That was me. I had your blood under my damn fingernails, in my hair, for weeks. And you don't even call?"

Just like that, her defensiveness disappears. Kate stares at her friend, horrified. "Lanie-"

"It was like a bad first date. Like I don't even warrant a call back to let me know, yeah, you're not dead-"

"I'm sorry," she gets out, injecting the words into the first pause she finds. It shuts Lanie up long enough for her friend to merely glare. "I'm so sorry, Lanie."

"Castle may be okay with that weak-ass apology, but I am not. Oh no, you do not get off that easily. You are gonna have to make - it - up to me."

"Castle's going to propose," she blurts out.

Lanie stares.

Kate's pretty shocked at her confession as well. But she needed a way to make it up to her best friend and it just came out. She didn't realize she's been wanting, so badly, to tell someone. And she and Lanie have always had a friendship based on traded information.

"Castle is what?"

Kate chews on her lower lip, glances out across the crowd. But it doesn't give her relief; somehow every man in the sushi place has something in common with Castle. There are his hands, that's the shape of his skull, that guy the same hair, him a similar build; she swears she hears his laughter.

"Kate Beckett. Do not hold out on me."

Kate glances back at her friend when she hears the choked sound in the woman's voice. Lanie is staring down at her uneaten food, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Lanie?"

When the ME looks up, Kate is stunned by the shimmer of angry grief. "You're not the only one who's been affected by that bullet, Kate. I called and you didn't answer me. You shut me out. I couldn't even tell you off because all you did was hide."

"I couldn't handle everyone's need. I could barely breathe at night without pain, and then during the day, it was an endless agony of movement. Staying in bed left too much to think about. I didn't know how to be."

"When that man came back from that first week at your dad's cabin. . ." Lanie shook her head. "I realized you'd have to deal with that first. I knew I'd be down on the list. But it's been four months."

The shameful thing is, Lanie's right. She did have to deal with Castle first, with how much she unintentionally hurt him. And his daughter. This is the first time she's gotten a chance to even think about Lanie. And that sucks. "I'm a terrible friend."

"You are," Lanie agrees, but she's spearing another sushi roll. "You're making it up to me though. So come on girlfriend. Talk about Castle."

"What's to talk about? You know Castle," Kate rolls her eyes.

"Oh, no ma'am. You don't get to do that. Talk."

Kate realizes there is more - there's lots more she's never said out loud before. Only ever maybe hinted at to her own sister.

"Last spring. About eight months ago. I thought I was pregnant."

"You what?" Lanie screeches, then hunches forward, lowering her voice. "You what?"

"I wasn't. I was just late. And my sister was going through some stuff, so I didn't have the space to even quietly freak out, I just. . .took a test and kept going."

"And you weren't pregnant."

"No."

"But?" Lanie asks, because Lanie knows her, can probably read it in her eyes.

"But I. . .no, I didn't want to be. But it was. . .some little thing was there one moment, this idea, where it had never been before. And then that possibility was gone, that really never existed in the first place, but suddenly I wanted it. Want it."

"Want it," Lanie repeats softly. "Oh, Kate. Kate. You do?"

Kate shrugs and looks back down at her plate, the unappetizing sushi rolls, the unappealing dinner. "I do. He does. We sort of. . .inadvertently talked about it."

"Today?"

"No. Back then."

"Eight months ago?" Lanie says on a squeal.

"Hush, yes. Eight months ago. We talked around it, but then. I just - I wanted to make sure I couldn't go back. You know? I wanted it to be a step forward for us. So I made him a promise that the moment he wants it, us to-" Kate swallows, can't even say it to her best friend, even though the visions come often enough, readily enough. "Anyway. . .he gets to sort of call it in. Claim it."

"You mean, when Castle wants to have kids, he's allowed to get you pregnant."

Kate groans, holds both hands up to her face, runs her fingers through her hair. But it's the truth. "Yeah. Basically. Only he told me that he wanted to marry me first," she explains, and can't help the smile that contorts her mouth when she says it.

"So that's how we got here? It's been eight months, Kate. Why is he waiting around so long?"

"Oh, no, see. . .well, we talked about it and then it just dropped and then I got shot, and I hurt him. I hurt all of you, I know-"

"Moving past that," Lanie says, using a hand to sweep it away. "Back to almost being engaged."

"I got him a ring," she admits.

Lanie grunts, eyeing her. "You got *him* a ring. You do know it goes the other way around?"

Kate laughs, a dry sound that nevertheless brings some release to tension at the table. Lanie has always been quick to forgive. She blows up easily, but she doesn't hold a grudge. At least, not against Kate. "I know. But we were ring shopping and he saw-"

"Hold the phone. You've been ring shopping? Girl, you are telling this story all out of order."

"I was trying to. . .prove something, I guess? No, that sounds bad. You know Beth is getting married in like. . .days," Kate laughs and brushes the hair from her eyes. "It just brought stuff up. And I've actually been waiting on Castle to. . .I don't know-"

"Be his usual Castle self. I know. I get it. So you nudged him a little."

Kate can feel her cheeks flushing but she doesn't deny it. "I did. And I wanted him to know that just because of this summer. . .It could've broken us. *I* could have broken us, Lanie, and I didn't even know how to stop doing it. But I didn't want us broken. I still wanted to marry him. Want to marry him."

There's a long silence where her friend just stares at her, and Kate realizes how out of left field this must sound for her, since she's not been good about keeping up with Lanie. Not since Beth came back to the city to stay. "I broke a lot of things, didn't I?"

Lanie reaches out and snags Kate's hand, squeezing. "You're lucky you got us. We love you too much to let you ruin things."

Kate nods, chewing on the inside of her cheek to keep from spilling tears. Not here. "So I fixed it. With Castle. And we went shopping for rings one day this week. Just looking really. And Castle went all. . .Castle-y over this ring shaped as a crown."

"A crown? Like. . .a king's crown? You are kidding me."

"Nope. So I went back later and bought it."

Lanie tsks at her. "You bought that man a crown? You are nuts. You'll never hear the end of it."

"I kinda don't want to hear the end of it," Kate admits, biting her lip. Lanie looks appalled and jealous at the same time, and Kate laughs. "I'm not saying you have to buy Esposito one. I just-"

"Oh no. You shut your mouth, Kate Beckett. Do *not* go giving Esposito ideas. We're not looking for a wedding rash here. Beth and Conrad, Jenny and Ryan, you two. We are *not* next."

Kate stares at Lanie for a long moment, realizing just how far off the radar she's been these last four months. Lanie *doesn't* want to marry Esposito?

"Okay. Your turn. What is up with you?"

Lanie gives her a growling glare, but Kate knows she'll give it up eventually. So Kate settles in to wait.


	11. Chapter 11

**Heartlines**

* * *

><p>The next few days are a blur of cases and wedding preparations while Kate tries in vain to clear her calendar for Saturday. She still has paperwork from the double homicide the boys' collared while she was at the bridesmaids' lunch, and she ends up missing the rehearsal dinner entirely while closing another case.<p>

Castle texts her from the restaurant, gives her a play by play of Elise's fluttering and nervous master of ceremonies duty. Beth calls from the bathroom, laughing, and Kate apologizes for not being there, but her sister doesn't seem to be upset, just happy. Which is so good to hear.

Alexis calls right after that to say they're all going to head to Lady M Boutique for dessert, and can she make it? Kate bites her lip and glances to the boys - Esposito catches on first and sighs at her, waving her on.

Kate sighs into the phone. "Oh goodness, their cheesecake is amazing. I'll try my best, Alexis. You guys leaving now?"

"Yeah. And Dad said not to call and bother you, but I know Beth just got off the phone with you, and I thought maybe-"

"You thought right. Your dad is trying to hog all the cheesecake for himself. I'm glad you called."

"Really?" Alexis says on a rush. "Oh good. I thought you'd hate me for interrupting-"

"Never," Kate admonishes, already gathering her stuff. "Let me tell the boys a few last instructions, and I'll meet you guys."

"Yes, yes! I'm so glad I called. I'll tell Dad. Bye, Kate!"

The girl hangs up before Kate can say another word. She sits at her desk for a second, debating, but really, there's nothing to debate. She doesn't want to be here anymore. Kate tugs on her jacket, slips her phone into her pocket, searches for her keys.

"Okay, I won't be answering my phone tomorrow-" Kate starts, but Ryan holds up a hand.

"We know, we got it. You go. You shouldn't have stayed so long anyway."

"We had a takedown-"

"We're good, Beckett." Esposito jerks his head towards the elevator. "Tell Beth and The Other Writer congrats."

"For me too," Ryan adds. "Oh, and if Castle mentions a bet, ignore him."

Kate pauses halfway to the elevator and spins back around. "A bet?"

Esposito punches Ryan in the arm. "Don't ask."

"Espo?"

"Forget it. Seriously."

"Did Castle come up with this bet?"

She has this weird flutter in her chest, and it's not because he might propose. He wouldn't do that on her sister's wedding day, would he?

No.

Would he?

"I'm not saying," Esposito says firmly. "Go."

* * *

><p>When his. . .Kate. His <em>everything<em> sounds too corny, but. . .sigh.

When _Kate_ strides into Lady M in her heels and leather jacket, her straightened hair falling around her shoulders, that faint line of tiredness in her forehead, Castle can barely keep from heading right for her.

The group is clustered at tables in the back, digging into various concoctions, talking too loudly. All of Lady M Cake Boutique is white - the walls, the serving counter, the tables, the floor - with chrome accents. Immaculate and pristine and rather pretentious, but decadent as sin.

He knows Kate loves this place. He figured he'd let his daughter call her and try to talk her into it - two things Beckett can barely resist: Alexis's pleas and the chocolate cheesecake from Lady M's.

He does get up from the little table where his daughter and Beth are. Alex is sitting to Beth's right, but at the other table which has been pulled flush to theirs. Along with Conrad are his friends from college and Lucie, sitting beside Alexis. Castle saved Kate a seat at his side, and now he wants her there.

She sees him making his way around the crowd for her; she gives him that flickering smile that she has when she's worn out. He grins back and slides a hand to her hip, holding her there while he kisses the line on her forehead.

"Glad you made it."

"Me too. Let me order." Kate backs away from him, pushing on his chest. "You're distracting me."

"All right, all right. Saved you a seat." He does make some room between them, but he can't go back to the table without her, now that he's seen her. He wants to hold her hand, so he waits until she's ordered from the skinny guy behind the counter, and then he wraps his fingers around her wrist, tugs a little.

She rocks back on her heels, shoots him a look. If he's tugging her off-balance, then she really is tired. Castle flashes an apologetic grin and slides his hand down to hers, laces their fingers together.

"You're clingy today," she murmurs, giving him an eyebrow as she heads down the counter to wait for her dessert, him following after.

"I missed you."

"Yeah, clingy."

Castle leans in until his mouth is at her ear. "You're gonna marry me, so better get used to it."

She laughs against his cheek, turns her head to give him a light brush of her lips. "Was I complaining, or just stating a fact?"

He knows he's got that ridiculous grin on his face, because no, no she wasn't complaining. "Did you miss me?"

"No."

"You did. I can tell."

"I didn't."

But she's lying through her teeth. Her eyes regard him like he's the only one in the room, and it's the same look she gets when he's got her under him, working at her slowly-

"Don't you dare look at me like that," she hisses, squeezing her hand tight around his. "Not in public. You. . .that's so not fair."

He laughs, startled by the intensity that sweeps across her face. The guy behind the counter calls her name, and she turns from Castle abruptly to snag the plate of chocolate cheesecake. He leads them back to the table, thrilled by the way he can sometimes unnerve her.

Mostly when she's tired and he hasn't been around. She *does* miss him.

Beth stands and hugs her sister, Conrad waves; Alexis talks animatedly for a moment or two about the flowers - Castle tunes out, watching Kate get situated, like she needs to acclimate to the social conditions. It's fascinating to watch her shift from detective and cop to sister and family.

When they've settled back down at the table, Kate takes her first bite and nearly unmans him with that moan, that flutter of her lashes, the arch of her throat as she swallows. He clamps his hand down on her knee and squeezes, letting her know that *she's* not being fair either.

She licks her lips slowly, eyes sliding to his, a selfish little twitch to her lips.

He drops his gaze to his plate, then casts a quick look around the table. Beth and Alex are being lovey dovey down there, Alexis is laughing at Lucie and Shelby and James seem to be face-timing the baby-sitter (Elise took JR after the rehearsal dinner).

Just him and Kate, for all intents and purposes.

Kate seems to sense this as well because she moves closer to him and props her elbows on the table, fork suspended with a bite hovering right in front of her lips. "What's this about a bet, Castle?"

Shit. Those rotten-

"You are not - not - allowed to propose during Beth's wedding," she says quietly, her eyes intense on his.

He grins. "When I propose is for me to know and you to find out."

"Castle."

"Trust me," he says, still grinning at the narrowed eyes of his. . .what is he supposed to call her now? He already wants to call her his wife. It keeps popping into his head. Better than girlfriend, deeper than partner. His wife. Soon, he thinks. Soon.

"Trust you? I trust you to be over the top and sentimental and crazy romantic and to do that grand gesture, but you just remember what I said, Castle."

He blanks out on that one. "What you said?"

"Private. A moment between you-" She reaches out and brushes her finger across his lips. "And me."

His heart thunders. "Yeah."

"Got it?"

"Got it." But he already knows exactly how he's propsosing to her. Exactly. And it's both private and also over the top.

"That bet?" she nudges, curling her finger now against his jaw, lightly scratching the five o'clock shadow that has already made an appearance.

"It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"Esposito said-"

He sighs. Kate raises an eyebrow.

"He bet me I'd cry before you did."

Kate's laughter echoes around the white cake shop, rings in his heart, and it's worth it. It's totally worth it. He'd make stupid bets with Esposito any day for that laugh.

* * *

><p>"Kate."<p>

The whisper holds a note of urgency, acute need weaved into it, and it forces its way through Kate's brain, invades this dream about a large castle bathed in bright summer light, the sounds of little feet running, hitting the stone. She keeps her eyes closed, tries to hold on, hazy with those images that linger in her half-awake brain. Little feet.

"Kate."

Her name, the soft, young voice - they pull at her consciousness, make her emerge against her will. She groans, slides open a reluctant eyelid. What the hell -

"Kate, please. I need you."

The tear-filled murmur does the trick. She jerks into awareness, eyes opening wide as she realizes that it's Beth calling for her. Needing her. At her side, Castle mumbles and moves closer, throws an arm around her waist. She has to stroke the hair back from his forehead, whisper soothing nonsense in his ear, to make him let go without waking him. And all this time her eyes are on Beth, adjusting to the darkness until she can see her sister's anxious, fear-ridden face.

Something's wrong.

Kate pushes back the covers and slides out of bed, legs first, careful not to go too fast. Her sense of balance isn't so good in the dark when she's just woken up.

Standing on her feet now, she grabs her sister's hand and pulls her forward, passing through Castle's study to get to the living room. She pushes Beth to the couch, leans in to turn on the fancy lamp that Castle bought a couple weeks ago, a black and bronze thing that manages to look both antique and vintage.

She looks back to her sister, and the frightened expression on Beth's face makes her heart tighten. So pale. The contrast is made only greater by the worry burning in her large green eyes, the dark locks of hair that fall on her shoulders. Tracks of tears on her cheeks. She looks so young, like she's eighteen again, her soul aching too deep for Kate to fix.

This is what Beth looked like before she ran to Paris, not to return for years and years.

"Beth -"

"I can't do this, Katie."

Her voice foreshadows more tears, so thin, cracking already; Kate cannot help but lean towards her sister, leave the armchair she just sat down in and move to the couch.

"Can't do what, exactly?"

This is the only way to approach her when Beth gets like this - all emotional. Kate has to be rational, has to show her what's real, what's true, prove that her fears have no solid ground. (Of course, it didn't work when Beth was 18 though.)

"I can't marry him," her sister whispers, shame and regret colliding in her eyes. She presses her hand to her mouth, sways slowly as if she's trying to rock herself.

Kate wants to touch her, tug her into her side, but she knows better.

"Why not?"

Beth shakes her head, closes her eyes against the brimming tears.

"I can't do this, Kate. I can't be the wife with the kids and the white-fenced house. That isn't me. I - I run away. I hide. I travel. I can never stay in the same spot for long. I'm going to hurt him. It's inevitable. I..."

She bites her lip; Kate suddenly understands how Castle must feel every time he soothes that sensitive spot, the one she always sinks her teeth into. It looks... painful.

"I'm going to break his heart," Beth whispers, her voice shaking. "He doesn't deserve this. I can't. I can't do this to him, Kate."

Oh, Bethie. Giving in to her earlier impulse, Kate wraps an arm around her sister's shoulders, pulls her into a side hug. Beth buries her face into Kate's neck, her breathing shallow, halting.

"I don't know why I thought - this is ridiculous. It's not me. And - I've only known him, what, eight months? Eight months, Kate. This is crazy. Why did you not tell me? Why did you let me get into this? Now I have to go and tell him, sorry, Alex, I'm not the right person for you-"

The words end on a raw whimper, like pain is bleeding right from Beth's heart, and Kate's heard enough.

"Hush," she orders fiercely, her fingers digging into her sister's arm. "You *are* the right person. And you love him, and he loves you. Eight months has nothing to do with it."

Beth is crying softly, the sounds muffled against Kate's neck, her whole attitude so desperate and resigned that all of Kate rebels against it.

"And how can you know? How can you know that this is 'not you'? People change, Beth. You and I changed after mom died. We both ran. Each in our own way. Does that mean we spend our whole lives running? That we can never be happy again?"

As she speaks the words, she realizes how much Castle's done for her. The part he's played in making her see these things, accept them; the part he's played in her own changes. And she also recognizes how desperate she is to believe in what she's saying, to believe that people can change, that she can be what Castle needs.

And never run away again like she did this summer.

Please, God.

"No," she goes on firmly, arms tightening around her quietly sobbing sister. "We can do this, Bethie. We can be happy. Okay? You have to trust Alex, trust yourself. Things will work out. And even if you want to travel - he's a writer. He can follow you. These are details. Meaningless little things. Don't let them stop you."

A long shiver runs through Beth, and she sighs.

"What if I'm not what he needs?"

"That's for him to decide," Kate replies, steel in her soft voice. "And he's chosen you, hasn't he?"

She feels Beth's shy smile against her skin, feels it drop after a few seconds.

"What if he's made a mistake?"

"Then it's his problem, Beth. Not yours."

Kate leans back, meets her sister's eyes. "Unless *you* think you're making a mistake?"

The fervent way Beth shakes her head, green eyes shining, eyebrows knit in determination, is too adorable for words. Kate feels a pang of regret, wishes her mother could see her baby now, see what Beth has become.

"No. No. I'll have him, if he'll have me."

"Good. I don't think there's a problem here, then."

Kate relishes the shaky laugh that her sister lets out, the light of it lingering on her face.

"But…"

Kate catches Beth's chin between her index finger and her thumb, stares into her eyes.

"Tell me you don't want this," she dares. "Tell me you don't want to wake up with that man every day, and share everything, and kiss him and make love to him. Tell me you don't dream of a little girl with his blue eyes and your smile, all dark hair and dimples, of a little girl who will throw her arms around Alex's neck and call him _Daddy_ before she runs back to you."

"Katie," Beth protests breathlessly, her mouth parted, shock rippling over her face. And yet – shock isn't the only thing there. There's a shadow of want, too, the ghost of envy floating at the back of her eyes.

Kate can see it – maybe because she's familiar with that ghost, too.

"Well?"

Her sister's lashes sweep her cheeks as she avoids Kate's gaze, and a lovely blush paints her face pink.

"Not just yet," she murmurs, her shoulders relaxing, all of her giving up the fight. "Not just yet, because I want a chance to enjoy him first, you know? I want to be a wife, before I get to be a mom."

Pride bursts through Kate, slices her chest open, warmth spreading everywhere as she hugs Beth again, presses her lips to her temple.

"That sounds like a good plan, little sister," she whispers. "A really good plan. Mom would be so proud of you."

A last, heart-wrenching sob tears it way through Beth; Kate can feel the ripples of it in her own body.

"I miss her," the younger woman breathes, curling tighter around her sister.

"I know." There's nothing else to say, no way to describe this gaping hole in their hearts, that will probably never heal completely. Not what doctors call a clean wound.

"I want her to be here," Beth complains, her voice a little girl's, even though the pain behind it has nothing childish about it.

"I know," Kate repeats, feeling inadequate. This is Beth's wedding; of course she wants her mother. But some things are just – not going to happen.

She kisses the top of her sister's head, once, twice.

"It's okay to cry for mom, Bethie."

As if she's been waiting precisely for permission, Beth rests her forehead to Kate's shoulder and lets her sorrow roll free. Kate holds her through the storm, hoping that along with the tears, goes the uncertainty, the gnawing doubt, the fear of not being enough.

Because there's no doubt in her mind that Beth is. She's more than enough.

And from what she's seen, Alex Conrad feels the exact same way.

* * *

><p>Beth falls asleep in her arms, of course, but Kate is in no hurry to move. She lets herself enjoy the peaceful rising and falling of her sister's chest, the soft sleepy sounds that escape her half-open mouth.<p>

Her baby sister.

When Beth was born, Kate was only two and a half, but she was very excited (their father loves telling this story; she's heard it too many times to count). Whenever neighbors or family came to offer their congratulations, meet the newborn, Kate would declare proudly, "I have a baby." (She had been told she had a baby sister, and for some reason, had decided that the word "sister" was unimportant enough to drop it).

Jim still laughs whenever he recounts that story.

Kate yawns and attempts to stretch, her back starting to hurt from the extended stay on the couch; she should probably get Beth back to her own bed, and do the same. Alex is staying with his mother tonight, the night before their wedding, in some nod to his mother's traditional wedding rituals.

When Kate lifts her eyes, she's only half-surprised to find Castle standing in front of her, his face painted in shadows, soft eyes, soft smile. She wants to kiss him, looking at her like that.

"Need a lift?" he asks quietly, nodding to the sleeping Beth.

"Think you can carry her upstairs?" Kate answers. Beth weighs about the same as she does, so theoretically, Kate figures he could. But all the way up?

"Sure," Rick says, getting down to one knee and gathering Beth in his arms. "Come up with me to open the door?"

They work well together, as always, and it's not long before Beth is being gently tucked into bed. Castle and Kate retreat without waking the bride-to-be, and he pulls the door closed behind them, winds an arm around Kate's waist.

She sighs, leans into his embrace, loving his sleepy smell and the way he makes her feel safe, cherished.

"Is Beth alright?"

She loves him for that too. The genuine way he cares about her sister, takes interest in everything that concerns her, loves her family as he loves her.

"Yeah," she answers softly. "She freaked out a little. Scared that she was doing the wrong thing, was going to hurt Alex. That she wasn't enough. She'll be fine. But she misses mom."

"It's only natural," Rick whispers, his lips dancing along her temple, the line of her jaw.

"Yeah," she murmurs back, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his deliberate attentions, this slow seduction that wins her over before she knows it.

Castle's mouth finds hers; there's no teasing in his deep, thorough kiss, only knowledge, only the clear evidence of the path that he's laying out for them, pouring from him, pouring into her.

"Hmm," she protests when his lips leave hers, start flirting with the curve of her ear.

But he has a plan, and he's following it.

"Kate," he breathes against her skin, warm, confident.

She writhes against him, wanting more, more of his solid body, more of his large hands and tender tongue.

"You're more than enough," he promises to the shell of her ear.

She wonders exactly how much he heard of her conversation with Beth.

And then she doesn't have the wherewithal to wonder.


	12. Chapter 12

**Heartlines**

co-authored by** Sandiane Carter** and** chezchuckles**

* * *

><p>Beth runs a light, reverent finger over the bustier of her dress, the lace and the pearls that catch the morning light as it hangs from the mirror.<p>

Beautiful. She can hardly believe that she gets to put it on – less than an hour now – gets to walk down the aisle in it, put her hand on top of Alex's -

So surreal.

So surreal. She shakes her head slowly, but she's serene about it, her calm unwavering. Unlike last night. A blush creeps up her neck when she thinks about it, shame tingling on her skin - what a childish thing to do, wake her elder sister to be comforted in the middle of the night.

And yet Kate didn't say anything, just held her, said the right words, like their mother would have done. Beth smiles. Kate always says that out of the two of them, Beth is the one who's more like Johanna, but it's not an absolute truth.

It – fluctuates. Depends on the moment.

And Beth loves this, that their mother's spirit seems to be shared between the two of them, moving from one to the other like a mysterious, beautiful dance, and sometimes, like water overflowing from a too small cup, filling them both.

The wooden door opens energetically, breaking Beth's reverie, as Lucie steps into the Bride's Room.

"Beth. What are you waiting for? Get into that dress," she commands in a bossy but affectionate voice, worthy of Elise. "We still have a lot to do."

The bride-to-be grins, and her heart flutters as Lucie unzips the dress, the sound tearing her calm apart, opening her wide to swirling excitement.

Married. She's getting married.

Some part of her wants to giggle and clap her hands like a little girl, but the rest, the part who wants to be like Kate, to follow her big sister's example, forbids it. So she settles for an excited squeeze of Lucie's shoulder as she steps into the dress, relishing the caress of the cool, soft fabric on her skin.

She turns, allowing her friend to zip it back up, and wraps her arms around her waist, a little dizzy with realization, with the emotion that makes her heart pound.

Lucie twirls her, inspects her, and beams.

"Oh my god, Liz, you're gorgeous," she exclaims, and she pulls Beth in for a hug, apparently unable to find another way to express her delight. Not that Beth minds. Words aren't her best friends either right now.

A soft sense of wonder falls over her, like little snowflakes trickling into her consciousness, gathering around her heart; a white, fluffy coat of happiness.

And when Lucie lets go and says, "Shall we take care of your hair now?", Beth can only smile and nod, because her throat has become this narrow passageway and air can barely come through anymore. She has to blink a few times, dispel the wetness that threatens at her eyes.

Lucie gives her sly smile, tilts her head.

"You know, if you have to cry, better to do it now. Before your make-up is on."

Beth lets out a tiny laugh, a poor, strangled thing, but a laugh anyway, and a look of triumph flashes through Lucie's face.

"Now sit down. We've got to do something for that hair of yours."

"With, not for," Beth says automatically, years of correcting each other's non-native languages coming back to her.

"Right. With. Now. Your hair, Beth."

* * *

><p>The door creaks open and Beth turns her head to the noise, catches a glimpse of her father peering into the room. Lucie hisses, warns, "Don't move now, I'm almost finished."<p>

Beth waits patiently, obedient, meeting Jim's eyes in the mirror and smiling at him. Lucie tugs one last curl out of the elaborate bun she's put together, twirls it around her finger before she releases it and inspects the results of her efforts.

Beth's hair is longer now than it was in the spring after she cut it, but it still hasn't grown back all the way. And to be honest, she doesn't want it to grow back all the way - she likes it now, just brushing past her shoulders. She likes shaking her head and feeling the softness of the curls, the tickle along her skin. Lucie has complained about the length, said it's harder to work with, but the woman in the looking glass is absolutely lovely: white, tiny flowers stuck in her dark hair, the soft waves all tamed, except for a few strands that make a charming halo around Beth's face.

"Nice job, Luce," she says admiringly, tilting her head to admire her friend's work.

"You like it?"

Lucie's voice is doubtful, her eyebrows knit as she eyes Beth, unappreciative of her own talent. As always.

The bride rises from her chair and turns to her, snagging Lucie's hand and waiting until the dark eyes have met hers.

"I love it," she promises quietly, smiling. "Thank you."

Lucie's face relaxes, a small, responsive grin tugging at her lips.

"I have to agree," Jim says from his observation post at the door. "That's very nice."

Surprised, Beth's friend turns to him, a slight blush spreading on her cheeks. "Oh, Mr. Beckett. I didn't know you were here. I - thank you."

"Just giving credit where it's due," he states, dismissing her gratitude with a little wave of his hand. Then he turns to his daughter, blue eyes twinkling with pride, gives her his close-lipped smile that Kate has adopted as well.

"Oh," Lucie says suddenly. "I have to see Elise about the - about the - flowers. I'll be back soon, Liz." And she disappears without further ado.

Jim laughs, the slow, warm sound that always makes Beth want to curl in his lap. "She's a sweetie, isn't she? Not very subtle, but adorable."

Beth smiles, assailed by all sorts of memories - Lucie screaming and calling for her ("Liz you *have* to kill that spider right now!"), Lucie bringing her tea and cookies in bed that week when she was so sick she could barely stand up, Lucie laughing and clinging to her arm when they went ice-skating in Paris, in front of the Hotel de Ville. (Beth had bruises on her biceps for days after that.)

"She's amazing."

"Makes two of you," her father says with a sly smile.

"Aww, dad. You're not allowed to make me cry," she laughs, doing her best to nip her emotion in the bud. It works, sort of. But then Jim steps forward, cups her cheek with one hand, a wistful look on his face.

"You're just as beautiful as she was," he murmurs, almost reluctantly.

And just like that, the tears are back, pushing fiercely at Beth's eyelids. Her breath chokes in her throat, her chest constricted, painful. No need to ask who 'she' is.

"Am I?" She can't help but ask, even though she hates herself for it. The fragile, insecure feeling of last night makes her heart pound again; and just like last night, Kate is there when her sister needs her most - opening the door.

"Beth, could you -" Kate stops in the middle of her question when she realizes their father is here, and steps fully inside the room to embrace him, kiss his cheek. "Oh, hi, Dad."

"Katie. You look...great."

Jim has never been very big on words, but he is right - Kate looks absolutely divine. Her hair is this complicated but lovely tangle of braids, uncovering the fluid line of her neck; the green of the bridesmaid's dress highlights her eyes, the fabric hugging her figure. Beth is proud of her choice.

A flash of silver at Kate's ears tells her that her sister is wearing the earrings that Beth bought as a present to her bridesmaids; Swarovski earrings, rhodium-plated with a crystal drop that catches the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Simple, but elegant; and they work just as well on Kate as they do on Lucie and Alexis.

Kate holds out the bracelet she'd run back to the car for. Their mother's bracelet. "I found it. Must've fallen out of the bag."

"Oh good," Beth sighs, grabbing it from her sister and sliding it on. She closes her fingers around it on her wrist, presses it against her chest. "Something old, then."

There's a pregnant pause during which they all look at each other, Kate and Beth and Jim, the silence heavy with meaning between them, charged with Johanna Beckett's face, and the ghost of her bright laugh.

The things that were lost; the things that can never be recovered.

But then Jim wraps an arm around each daughter, crushes them both into his sides; Beth laughs shakily, hugs back. Her hand finds Kate's at their dad's back and their fingers intertwine, squeeze.

"My baby girl's getting married," he says in a ruff, raw voice.

"You mean, *my* baby," Kate says, her words full of the smile that Beth can't see.

And they all laugh together this time, and it doesn't matter if it's a little forced, if it's not quite right. Because they're all together now; they've found their way back, and they're doing this. However tentatively. They're doing life without Johanna. It's not just surviving anymore - it's living, living around the jagged edges maybe, building over the dark well of pain, but living anyway.

And Beth knows that her mother would be proud of them.

Now for something borrowed. "Katie."

Her sister lifts her head, smiling. "I know. It's in my clutch. Let me get it."

Kate disengages from the family hug, but her father keeps his arm around Beth, squeezing, staring at her and taking her in. Beth's heart is pounding because she still is half stunned that Kate even offered it. Something old, something new, something borrowed-

When her sister comes back to them, she opens her hand to the diamond ring on its gold chain. "Here it is. Something borrowed, baby sister."

And then their father takes the necklace and slides it over Beth's head, brushing his thumb along her cheek to catch the tear.

"You're beautiful, Beth. Absolutely beautiful."

* * *

><p>Alex is on the lookout, half hidden in a recess of the hallway, the stone blessedly cool at his back. His eyes are watching hungrily, intently waiting on the Bride's Room's door to open, on the Becketts to come out.<p>

Well, not all of the Becketts.

One of the flower girls passes him, gives him a suspicious look; Alex knows what she must think, how ridiculous he looks. A grown man, the groom, all dressed up and an hour from being married (less than an hour, he thinks, glancing at his watch, and his stomach does this somersault thing) - and yet he's hiding like a little boy.

But he doesn't care; he really, really wants to catch her alone. Before.

He's not sure why - he doesn't doubt, no, nothing like that; there's no hesitation amidst the rush of excitement and anticipation that tingles through his veins. But he needs to see her. It's physical, irresistible (like that song by the Corrs. Oh yeah. He just went there). His brain is on overdrive, won't shup up - this is why he needs Beth, needs the soothing calm she distills, the way his world quiets when she's near.

His love.

At last, at _last_, Jim Beckett comes out, says something about going to greet Mrs. Rodgers, and disappears. One down, one to go. Alex is poised, ready. Come on, Kate. _Get out of there._

The moment she does leave - he gets an impression of lovely green and pale skin, of braids that remind him of Padme in the second Star Wars movie - Alex is on the move, sneaking to the Bride's Room and opening the door, slipping inside in a split second. Ha. He needs to tell Castle about his ninja skills.

Beth is facing the window; she turns when she hears him.

Air deserts his lungs; his heart stops.

He can't -

Can't think. Can't speak.

She smiles, beautiful, _beautiful_, that sparkle in her eyes and the curve of those lips and this adorable curl flirting with her neck -

Before he's even aware of it, he's moved, stepped closer, entranced, fascinated as he is. This quote from _Romeo and Juliet_, about never seeing true beauty till this night (he can't remember the exact wording; his brain is sullenly refusing to work) makes sudden sense now. Oh god, it does.

"I," he starts, then stops, wordless, struck silent by this woman who is going to be his wife.

Her smile grows, flourishes, wraps around his heart like a warm, gentle hand.

"I know," she murmurs, resting a hand against his chest and raising to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. She doesn't need to - she's wearing heels and even without them, she's almost as tall as him - but he loves the way it pushes her against him, her body rising to meet his, all lovely curves and gorgeous lines cradled by this astonishing dress.

He sweeps his tongue across her lower lip, can't help it; Beth hums against him, parts her mouth for him, her hands coming up to his neck and drawing him closer.

There's something to this kiss - something different. He's not sure what it is, the delicious knowledge that in an hour she'll be his wife, the beautiful setting of the old church, the majesty of the stone and the light spilling from the stained glass window; but their kiss has a taste of sweet, sensual promise, a taste that he wants to cherish and savor for the rest of his life.

"I love you," he whispers when they part, the words falling from his lips as naturally as the breath he exhales.

Beth beams, and he has to blink stupidly, a little blinded.

"I know."

* * *

><p>Castle isn't the first to cry. But he's the first of the procession to cry, which totally sucks. The problem is, he's standing in the line of groomsmen across from the line of bridesmaids and there's half his family right there, beautiful and smiling and that look of awe on their faces as they watch Beth and Alex during the ceremony.<p>

Alexis just stuns him with her so very adult poise and her beautiful face and the way she - all of the sudden - isn't his little girl any more.

And then Kate.

God, thank you for Kate.

Just.

He has to swallow hard to keep it back, but he can't look away from Kate. Her hair wrapped around her head in what she termed _waterfall braids_ and the long line of her neck to the bare shoulder that he's kissed and caressed and claimed.

He's still got the shadow of a black eye but Kate put some stuff on it to hide it. Her brusies and the teeth marks are mostly gone, which he's actually kind of grateful for. It was funny at first, but he doesn't want everyone who doesn't know them to think that he's been abusing her or something.

Kate just chuckled at him and nibbled on his bottom lip, then told him to go get the car.

And he's going to marry her. Soon. She wants to have kids with him._ Soon_.

So of course, that's when it hits him. The tears. They choke his throat first, and then he doesn't want to draw attention to himself by rubbing at his eyes or tilting his head back or any of the other tricks, so he just lets the couple drops slip down his cheeks and he tries to stop looking at Kate.

But then his eyes go to Beth and Alex, and the way Beth looks at Alex, and she's so much like Kate - she's always looked like Kate but with a rounder face - and then it's well and truly hopeless.

He blinks fast and happens to look back to Kate and then that's even worse because now she's looking at him too, and her eyes are so tender as they regard him, so loving, and shit - she's _not_ crying too.

Kate Beckett is tearing up a little. But Castle broke first.

Esposito's won fifty bucks. Damn.

* * *

><p>Kate watches her dad and Beth dancing alone on the floor, the music simple and elegant as they move through the steps. Her father looks nervous, but he's pretty adept on his feet.<p>

Castle comes back to their table with another plate of the groom's chocolate and raspberry cake; Kate turns and smiles at him, pulling out her fork.

They share the second piece between them, eating in silence, bumping knees, Kate licking the frosting off of her fork, Castle scraping raspberry cream onto her side of the plate. During their drive to the reception, she gave him hell for crying and making her get teary-eyed as well, but he was curiously silent.

She thinks she knows what that was about. He'd been staring at her with such intensity that she was surprised his thoughts weren't projected like a movie on the wall of the cathedral.

When the cake is gone, Beth and her father are taking their second dance while Alex and his mother step out onto the parquet floor as well. Castle leans back in his seat and stretches his arm out along the top of her chair, his fingers brushing her bare shoulder.

She feels goosebumps rise and leans in to him, resting against his side, her hand on his thigh. "So, Castle. Are we gonna go looking for rings later?"

"Eh, yeah. Whenever."

Whenever? Not the answer she's looking for.

"Want to do that tomorrow? I've got to go in to the station, but later-?"

"I can think of something else I'd rather do," he says, flashing her a look.

Kate laughs and reaches up to rub frosting from the corner where his lips meet. Castle's eyes darken and his hand captures hers, brings her thumb to his mouth, sucks the chocolate from her skin.

She stares at him, all higher thinking wiped clean from her head, and she knows, somewhere, that he did that on purpose. She just can't bring to mind why. Other than to have her haul him off to the bathroom down the hall for a-

"Kate."

"Uh."

"Will you dance with me?"

She manages to cut her eyes from his mouth to check the dancefloor - everyone's allowed on now, and people have already started filling it up.

"Yes," she answers, a smile spreading across her face. She wants to dance with him. All night.

Castle stands and offers her his left hand, his eyes brilliant and soft as he looks at her. She takes the proffered hand, squeezes, and gets to her feet, the heels of her shoes bringing her even with his mouth.

She kisses him softly, feels the metal of that crown ring against her own fingers, smiles into the kiss.

They're next. She and Castle.


	13. Chapter 13

**Heartlines**

by** Sandiane Carter **and** chezchuckles**

* * *

><p>She feels so good in his arms.<p>

Castle loves the one-shoulder dress with its bare skin - okay, well, really, Castle loves her bare skin, and the dress gives him plenty of it to brush his lips across. He does, loving the shoes too, for putting her shoulder in kissing distance.

"Keep it PG, Castle," she murmurs, threading her hand through the hair at the nape of his neck and tugging his head back up.

He chuckles at that, feels her shiver in response.

He loves slow-dance music. He loves this parquet floor and the dimmed lights as they dance; he loves Beth and Alex's wedding reception. He loves-

Kate Beckett. He loves Kate Beckett, and he wants her for always.

And on that note. "Hey, Kate?"

"Mm?" She draws her cheek away from his, looks in his eyes. Oh God, what amazing eyes, and what has he done so right in this life to deserve the way she looks at him?

He clears his throat. "You got plans tomorrow?"

"Might go into the 12th and catch up on the stuff I've missed today."

"Paperwork or a case?"

"Mostly paperwork. Hard to work on a case on Sundays. Why?"

Castle brushes his hand down her back, then up again, feeling the arch of her body against his, deliciously strong and insistent. "Well, I have that book signing at Book Culture. Broadway and-"

"114th, yeah. I know it."

"Want to meet me there afterwards? Starts at two, but it probably won't end until six or seven."

She presses her mouth to his cheek. "Maybe surprise you in line?" she murmurs. He can hear the smile in her voice.

"Mm, yeah. Stand with all the swooning fans. Flaunt your relationship with me and make 'em all jealous-"

"You wish."

"Maybe you wish-"

"I don't need to flaunt anything. I know I've got you."

He laughs, hugs her a little tighter to himself, the material of her dress warm with the heat of her skin. "You do. That's true. So you'll come?"

She gives a warm, entirely-too-seductive laugh, and he hears how that question might sounds.

"Do my best, Castle, but I need your help."

"What happened to keeping it PG?" he murmurs back, already halfway ready to ravish her on the dance floor. The sway of her liquid silk body against his, smooth lines and warm flesh, the fingers at his neck, the vibration of her voice-

"I'll try to come," she says on a low laugh, apparently still thinking naughty thoughts.

But she'll try. Well. Okay, that will have to be good enough. "If you get there late, meet me at the employees' entrance. It's in the alleyway - all the shipments come through there so it's two wide double doors. You won't be able to get in, but I'll be leaving that way. But I don't want you to be late."

"Sure," she says, and he can tell she's already on to something else. "Hey, seriously, Castle. No inappropriate groping on the dance floor."

He laughs and slides his hands away from her ass, taking a little step back so she's less distracting. "Can't help myself sometimes. I just want your body."

She growls at him, her hand at his neck squeezing. "Well I want your body too, but you don't see me acting like a-"

"You started it. You can't be saying things like that to me," he interrupts. "We're in public."

He leans back a little and sees her smirking, knows he's got her. It's that sexy smirk, that _I want to be alone with you_ smirk. He so loves it.

Castle leans in and captures that smirk, that sensual mouth with its secret smiles. When he pulls back, for decency's sake, she leans in after him, cheeks flushed.

She rouses, lifts her lashes to look at him. "The second Beth and Alex walk out of here?"

"Yeah?"

"You take me home, Castle."

* * *

><p>Beth can't stop giggling as Alex blindfolds her, then pushes her into the limo. She's had enough champagne to still be light-headed, but she's also eaten enough cake to not be drunk.<p>

Not completely, at least.

The leather of the limo seats is soft under her fingers, and after a second or two she feels the warm weight of Alex against her shoulder. He smells of cake and champagne, just like she does, but the underlying scent is manly and _him_, and when his lips meet hers, when his tongue pushes inside her mouth, she moans in pleasure and parts for him, her arousal all the sharper, the more sudden because she can't *see* him.

The car takes a turn and she falls deeper into him, her hand coming up to his shoulders to steady herself (_sure_, that little voice in her head mocks, _whatever_). His strong arms come around her, securing her to his chest, and Beth runs her thumbs over his cheeks – she knows his face so well, doesn't need her eyesight – before she leans in for another kiss, gentle, almost hesitant.

The limo ride is entirely too short, the car slowing and then stopping before Beth has had time to do much more than conduct a careful exploration of Alex's mouth.

"Should have picked a hotel that's farther away," she whispers, and he laughs in her ear, delighted, joyful, a wonderful sound that lifts her heart, lights up her whole being.

"I wasn't the one who picked it," he replies mysteriously, before sliding outside and helping her out.

Mmm, they should try the blindfold in a… different setting, she thinks as she shivers at the contact of his hand, large, warm, a little callous – but the palm so soft and welcoming.

"You'll tell me if I'm walking on my dress, right?" She asks, using the first thing that comes to mind and trying to distract herself. "Cause I really can't see a thing here."

His lips brush hers – she tenses in surprise, feels a jolt of electricity in her belly – and she feels his smile.

"I'll tell you. But we're almost there, Beth."

He has a way of saying her name – gets her every time. Like those small, four letters are wrapped in tenderness, are one single breath of relief and love. She can't…

Ah, he's making her sappy. Well, she supposes, if there's a day when you can get away with being sappy, it's your wedding day, right?

Stifling a smile, she focus on walking straight as she follows him into a place that she can't see, recognizing the quiet sound of revolving doors. She can hear Alex talking to someone – won't he take the blindfold off now? She feels a little ridiculous, all those people who can see her but she can't see them – and he takes her hand, leads her to what she assumes is an elevator.

"Can I take it off now?" She asks when the doors close on them, itching to see his face, to look into his blue eyes.

Alex laughs softly.

"So impatient," he teases. "We're almost there. Just wait a few more minutes, honey."

Ah. The little bastard, using pet names to soothe her. And it works, of course; her stupid stomach does a little flip every time he calls her something sweet and entirely too cute, something she wouldn't take from anyone else.

Fine. She will wait, then. The elevator ride seems endless, but Alex's fingers have curled on her waist and are drawing entrancing patterns there, and it's all she can do not to shiver.

At last she hears the doors gliding open, and Alex is out before she can react, cradling her hand in his.

"This way," he says, tugging her after him. She gathers her skirt with her other hand to keep herself from tripping, notices how soft the floor seems, even under her heels. Carpet, then.

What *is* this place?

He lets go of her fingers to fumble with what she guesses is the key to their door, then says in a voice that she can't quite place, "Okay, come in."

Beth steps forward cautiously, pauses to take off her heels with a relieved sigh. The carpet is soft and warm under the soles of her feet; she curls her toes in pleasure.

"Can I look now?"

Even as she asks, his fingers are already working on the fabric circling her head, undoing the knot deftly – she has to blink against the sudden afflux of light, shade her eyes to let them adjust.

And when they have –

"Oh, my god," she murmurs, pressing a hand to her chest, stunned, breathless.

The sitting room is resolutely modern, gorgeous in its simplicity, the dark wood furniture contrasting with the white walls, the pale carpet giving way to a lovely hardwood floor.

The overall impression is that of a wide, open, luxurious space, nothing too much – just enough.

She gets a glimpse of the bedroom through its open door; it looks just as amazing as the rest, through that to the bathroom, and oh – the bathtub is sinfully large, calling for her. She cannot resist.

With a joyful, breathless laugh, Beth claps her hands and runs to the bathtub, stops to turn on the lights and admire the whole setting, the marble counters, the flowers that put the exactly right amount of color to that black and white wonderland.

Oh, god, this is just – she can't –

Giddy, exhilarated, Beth swirls around to see Alex leaning into the doorframe, smiling, his face alight with how much he loves her. It's all there, open, exposed for her to see, and it's like her heart is breaking out of her chest, flying to this amazing man, and all she can do is follow.

He opens his arms just in time to catch her, both of them stumbling from the impact – Beth never does anything halfway – and they fall to the bed together, laughing until her mouth finds his, awed and grateful and overwhelmed.

She tries to say it all with this kiss, pour everything she feels for him in the delicate sweep of her tongue, the tease of her teeth at his bottom lip, the sigh of abandon she gives him when he parts his mouth for her.

Tears – stupid tears – are choking her, and she has to let go in order to suck in a breath, desperate, feeling a little bit like she's drowning.

"I love you," she pants when she's gathered enough oxygen to do so, her heart so full, overflowing.

"My wife," he whispers back, and there are no words, no words to describe that look in his eyes, the pride and wonder, the exultant, childish joy. Love and triumph laced together.

Oh, Alex.

She bites her lip and smiles, slowly; she lets the beam out of her, hoping to show him – to let him know what he does to her, how much this means. She can feel it radiating from inside her, all this happiness, a ribbon of warmth curling in her chest; he has to know, right?

He *has* to know that this is all him, all for him.

He grins back, emotion shimmering in his eyes, and because her dry throat won't let her speak – because he's stolen all her words – Beth can only lean into him and take his mouth again.

She can see now how her fears were wrong.

All wrong.

Because it's not about her being good enough. This man, who chose her, who loves her so much – this man *makes* her good enough.

Makes them. Together.

Together they're good enough.

* * *

><p>Kate captures his hand in the darkness of the loft, grateful that Alexis decided to spend the night with her grandmother (knowing, of course, that when Castle left her to give Alex the envelope with their gift inside, he probably caught his daughter alone and heavily suggested this sleepover idea - but Kate doesn't even care, not a bit).<p>

Castle is tugging on his tie, trying to unknot it and slide it off his neck with only one hand. Kate keeps at his mouth, shuts the front door by curling her hamstrings, lifting her foot, even as he trips after her, their bodies slamming together, hers crushed against the door, her knee raised and brushing his thigh.

"Castle-" she gasps, can't say what she wanted to say with his mouth at hers. What was she going to say? Who cares. His teeth-

She bites back and he slams back against her, bodies flush, his hand at the back of her neck the only thing that keeps her head from hitting the wood. On purpose, of course; he probably was a little ashamed of the marks he left on her last time. But she likes the Rick Castle that leaves marks, loves the Rick Castle that-

His hands. His thick, strong fingers and oh-

"Castle-"

The dress is just getting in the way now. And his suit - his pants - "Off."

He growls back at her but doesn't move away, doesn't obey her order, just nibbles a line down her neck as he rucks up her dress with those too-smooth hands, the skin of his fingertips brushing the skin of her thighs. She bucks against him, finds herself straddling his leg, her arms around his neck.

"Don't rip my dress," she threatens, biting his earlobe, sucking on it to get his attention.

"Yes. No. No, I won't-" He shivers and his fingers clutch at her thighs, hard enough to bruise, but he's already pushing her away from him. Trying to be civil. Kate doesn't want civil, but-

She lets go, leans against the door, presses her palms flat against it. Tries to breathe while he looks at her with those unintentionally sexy, adorable eyes. That smile he has, where the corners of his eyes scrunch up, the crow's feet radiating out, that smile that has such joy and childlike happiness and - and - and oh, damn - there's nothing childlike about that - need, lust, love.

She manages to stand without the aid of the door, disgusted with the way she teeters in heels that are never a problem when she's not so thoroughly drunk with him. She grabs his forearm for balance as she leans over and works the shoes off her feet, feeling the play of muscle as he strives not to reach for her.

She knows he's getting an eyeful down her dress; she's entirely okay with that. In fact, she might have done that on purpose-

"Tease," he rasps, and his mouth is at her ear as Kate straightens up. "Sexy, ridiculously hot, amazing tease."

"Flattery will only get you in my bed," she murmurs back, grinning at the sharp spark of lust that ignites in his gaze. She reaches for the zipper in the side of her dress, fingers fumbling, but he knocks her hands aside and does it himself.

The sound of the zipper parting makes her heart pound, watching his eyes as he reveals skin.

"You gonna talk dirty to me tonight, Detective Beckett?"

She watches him for a moment, prolonging the mystery, then brushes her hand along his adam's apple, feels his pounding pulse under her fingers. Her thumb at his jaw, Kate remembers the look on his face when he was standing up with the groomsmen, remembers how he only had eyes for her. Misty eyes, completely unashamed of it, and thinking exactly what she was thinking - _I want that with you._

Teasing and sexy are fine; they've done that. She wants tender instead, slow, the way his hands will worship the length of her body and make her tremble, make her cry out softly.

"No, not tonight." she answers finally. "Just love me, Castle. And let me love you."

* * *

><p>"I'm gonna need help getting out of this dress," Beth mumbles from somewhere down his chest. They're still on the bed, a tangled mess of limbs; neither has mustered the resolve to move.<p>

"Uh-huh," Alex answers, wiggling an eyebrow even though she can't see him.

She laughs – such a carefree, beautiful sound – thumps his ribs lightly. "Not like *that* – well – yes, like that too, but no, not what I meant. I actually can't get out of the dress on my own. Lucie helped me with the zipper and the bows and she tied them _so _tight…"

"Sounds like exactly the kind of mission I dreamed of when I was seventeen," he pipes up before his brain can stop him.

But Beth – his lovely, wonderful Beth – isn't disgusted in the least; instead she looks at him, mirth dancing in the green depths of her eyes.

"Oh yeah?" She asks sultrily, running a hand though her hair. "I'm your seventeen-year-old dream?"

"You're my thirty-one-year-old dream as well," he assures her with a smile, knowing his honesty is shining through his words.

"You don't have much imagination, do you?" She teases, even though she can't quite keep the delight out of her voice.

He grabs the hand that rests on his chest, links their fingers together before bringing it up to his mouth to kiss, slow, sensual.

He feels her shiver, and grins. "I have plenty of imagination," he murmurs, licks at her palm. "Only, none of my fantasies really measures up to this."

He gets a sharp intake of air for an answer, and knows his own face is starting to hurt from so much grinning, but there really seems to be nothing he can do to help it.

"Okay," he says, attempting to get up and failing miserably. He tries again, manages to rest some of his weight on his elbow. "Let's get you out of that dress, then. And into that huge bathtub?" He adds as an afterthought, remembering the child-like pleasure in her eyes when she caught sight of it.

The smile on her face is answer enough.

Alex propels himself up, eager now, impatient because there is still so much to say, so much to show her, and he needs a battle plan, needs to organize this. Lazing in bed, no matter how nice it feels, is certainly not the best way to spend one's wedding night.

Well, okay. Yes. But. . .still.

He pulls Beth to her feet, heedless of her reluctant little sigh, but noting the general exhaustion in her whole body, the slumped line of her shoulders. A bath is a good idea.

The relaxing, hot water, and Beth's soft body against his – oh, yeah. And he's fairly confident in his ability to rouse her afterwards.

She was not joking about the dress, he quickly realizes; he has to unlace the back, untie the bows, and *then* pull the zipper down. But her quiet, blissful exclamation when he finally starts taking the bustier off her is oh, so worth it.

She's not wearing a bra underneath, and the expanse of her bare back is too attractive for him to resist its call. He leans in, presses gentle kisses along her vertebrae, playfully tracing some of them with his tongue.

Beth arches against him, her hands coming to rest on his, splayed at her waist as if to absorb even her slightest shivers.

Bath first, he tells himself; but still he has the hardest time letting go of her long enough to let her step out of the dress.

She turns to him when she only has her blue lace panties on, takes his breath away.

And her eyes, oh – her eyes glitter like faceted diamonds, so dark and rich and lovely; she looks both very young and very old in that moment, very different from the woman he fell for, with her happy laughter always ready to spill.

He loves this, loves getting to see different aspects of her; he wants to spend his life finding what's hidden behind the surface smile, wants to learn about the secret currents of her heart.

He brushes a gentle, reverent kiss to her lips, his thumb caressing her cheek, the round line of her jaw. Then he takes her hand and leads her into the bathroom, starting the water before he goes to unbutton his shirt –

Beth's light fingers stay his; she gives him a meaningful look, and starts undoing the buttons herself. One at a time.

She presses a kiss to his skin between each new button, and by the time she gets to his waist, Alex's eyes are closed. His hands are fists at his sides; his breathing has turned rather erratic, because he sucks air in whenever Beth lets him.

The simple knowledge that she's on her knees in front of him – oh, man.

When he dares to slit an eye open, he realizes with some relief (and, okay, maybe a vague sense of disappointment) that she's moved away; she's back on her feet, standing in front of the bathtub. Staring at the water running.

Uh. Okay.

"Beth?" He asks quietly, leaning in to stop the water before it overflows. She jerks, startled; he sees her eyes land on his face, sees the realization of her surroundings blossom.

"Are you –" She pauses, chews on her lower lip, looking more unsure than he's seen her in awhile. Well, no, not unsure exactly. Considering, rather. And irritated at herself.

She tosses her hair back, seems to make a decision. "Are you paying for all this?"

Wha–?

She's serious. Oh.

"What if I am?" He asks, honestly curious to see where this leads.

She tilts her head, green eyes studying him. Damn; serious Beth is way too sexy for her own good.

"I feel like I should say this," she starts, and takes a step back when he tries to kiss her. "Alex," she scolds. "I'm trying here. You better listen. I'm not well-known for my ability to be serious."

He laughs – has to – but she's so adorable and *serious* that he tries to calm down and listen.

"I'm not sure how fair it is, if this –" she gestures around them, "is your money. I'm not like Kate, Alex. I like gifts, I – I love getting new things. Travelling. And – I'll never say no if you offer. I'll just - take it. Without thinking. Because this is what I do. And, and, you've only published one novel, and I know it's selling well, but maybe you should consider using your money for something–"

He's heard enough; he stops her with a light finger on her mouth, amused and touched by the bewildered look in her eyes.

"Our money," he says.

The silence is only broken by the murmurs of the water lapping at the bathtub; Beth's eyes widen, and he watches his words sink in.

"But I don't have as much as you do," she objects after a moment. "I could never give as much –"

He shakes his head, links their fingers together.

"Just money, Beth. Trust me, honey, you have so much more to give. So much more. This is just a convenience. A means to an end. It won't make me happy. *You* will. You do."

She works her mouth, but no words come out. She has this stunned, grateful, warm look on her face, a smile that starts in her eyes and travels to her mouth, illuminates, transforms her.

"Our money," he says again, his voice strangled, because he can't quite believe his words did that. "I want us to share everything, Beth."

Eyes soft with love, she wraps her arms around his neck; her lips tell him everything he needs to know, how deeply she cares for him, how moved she is by something that he didn't even think twice about.

His hands curl around her elbows, pull her closer; his half-naked body eagerly welcomes the contact, heat rushing through his veins when the silk-like skin of her abdomen meets his, so tense and good.

His wife, his wife –

She takes the beautiful burn of her tongue away and he moans in displeasure, tries to pursue her, but it's only so she can whisper in his ear, her voice so dark and sexy, "I want us to share everything too."

And as he kisses her, as he feels her nimble fingers work at the belt of his dress pants, he can only think _yes, yes_ –

Sharing is good.


	14. Chapter 14

**Heartlines**

co-authored by** Sandiane Carter **and** chezchuckles**

* * *

><p>Kate runs behind schedule all day. She woke early and slipped out of bed, managed to drink her first cup of coffee before hitting the shower. Castle followed her (though she expected him to sleep for awhile yet), and that made her late to work.<p>

Really late. It's possible she let herself be distracted. She might have gone back to bed with Castle (entirely his fault; he was so damn eager, and attentive to a heightened and completely all-consuming degree). She might have had lunch in bed with him, and she might also have needed a second shower which led to more. . .activities. . .even though she meant to get to work early.

Sigh.

When she does arrive, there's the paperwork she didn't finish on Friday afternoon waiting for her on her desk. She gets started on that while the boys wheedle her for information about the big event.

Of course they caught a case yesterday while she was at the wedding, but Esposito and Ryan want all the gory details before they will settle down ("Yes, Esposito, Castle cried first - you win the bet"), and when they do finally dig in, the three of them stare blankly at the murder board for a lot longer than is healthy (while Kate wishes Castle were here to nudge them in the right direction with some crazy theory). She even tosses out _CIA_ just to see what happens (nothing, of course; it's never the CIA).

They run financials, start asking themselves why that convenience store's dumpster, why that street, why this normal-looking guy.

No warrants, no judicial process on Sundays, so she's spinning her wheels a little, trying to work around the system's limitations. But she's got uniforms canvassing the neighborhood again, talking to the people who weren't at home last night, and she's arranged for the surveillance tapes from the ATM camera across the street to be delivered the moment the warrant comes through.

There's not much else, but now it's creeping up on six.

Damn. Castle's book signing.

"Guys, I hate to do this to you again-" she starts, grabbing her jacket, then pausing as she glances at the murder board. "Wait. Didn't the girl say something about photographs?"

Esposito raises an eyebrow, glances back to the board. Kate has half-shrugged on her jacket, stilled by the image that slowly forms in her mind's eye.

Ryan flips through his interview notes. "Girlfriend, Randi, says 'I asked him to do one little thing for me and he couldn't even do that-' Jeez. Nice girl."

"Wait, wait," Esposito says, clearly seeing it now too. "That one little thing. The photos. Getting the photos on her digital camera developed. Maybe he *did* get that done. And if so-"

Ryan nods, the light coming on. "If so, where are those photos?"

Kate grins. "Exactly. That's what he was doing there. None of the clerks remember him because you don't need an employee to print out photos anymore. We should check the convenience store's digital photo kiosk. I bet they have some kind of back-up data storage. Have Tech-"

"Tomorrow."

Kate sighs, winces. "Right. A warrant. Damn. Okay, well, put the call in-"

"Don't you need to get somewhere, boss?" Ryan asks, tugging on the sleeve of her jacket. "You looked like you were on your way out."

"Right." Damn it. She really should go to this thing. Castle asks so little of her and- "Right. Yes. I need to go. Castle's signing is over - shit. In five minutes. Espo?"

"Yeah, yeah, we got this. Just phone calls. Go."

She could kiss him. Only he'd look at her funny and Ryan would snicker, and that's-

Anyway. Kate pushes her other arm into her jacket, slides her keys, wallet, and phone into the zip pocket, makes sure she's got her gun and badge, and then she's ready. She wanted to change before she went down to Book Culture, but jeans and an ivory sweater will have to do.

She takes the subway because it's at least slightly faster than walking (and because Castle will have the car service pick them up, she's pretty sure). She climbs the station stairs back up into the close and busy sidewalk, the sun filtering between the buildings and warming her up.

Kate unzips her jacket a little, then has to take it off entirely, throwing it over her arm as she gets close. Book Culture is a squat-looking, modern building with chrome book spines for door handles. She checks the time and risks going inside.

There's still a line, despite the fact that it's late, that this place is kind of out of the way, and that Rick doesn't look so happy. In fact, from her vantage point at the back, he looks dispirited. She wonders if that's because she's so late. But why would it matter so much to him?

Oh, seriously. Of course it matters to him. Kate sighs and drifts to a table of his books, plucks it off the display without even looking at it. She should've kept better track of the time, left when she first meant to an hour ago.

She did warn him she had a lot to catch up on; he knows how it is in the precinct.

Oh, Castle.

Kate gets in line, hugging his book to her chest, swamped in frustration by the way he smiles but doesn't smile, lifts his sharpie to the book jacket to sign one after another without really even looking. He glances at a face, gives a polite nod, doesn't seem to even hear or see the 'biggest fan' at the table in front of him.

A few people are now in line behind her as well, which means he'll be here for awhile yet. He said it might last until seven, so she's not all that late. Right?

The line moves pretty quickly, since Castle isn't even really chatting up anyone. So not like him. He really was looking forward to her being here, wasn't he? She hates that. This is the clingy part she can't stand; she really can't. The kind where his whole attitude changes because she's not there. He's better than that; he's his own person who has lived an entire life before her. He shouldn't be wallowing just because she's a little bit late-

"Who should I make it out to?"

And damn him. He's not even looking at her.

"Kate," she says testily. "Make it out to Kate. Castle."

His head jerks up; his brain must register slowly, because he looks blank and dumb-founded for a second, and then he grins like a little boy, so eager and pleased with her, proud of her, that her irritation evaporates.

"You made it."

"Of course I did," she huffs at him, unable to let it go entirely. "I said I would."

She can hear murmurings behind her; fans catching on, figuring it out. They've been photographed together before; he's known to be living with his Nikki Heat. Whatever. She couldn't care less what they think about this.

"I'll have them lock the doors," he grins. "They were supposed to close at six anyway. And then-"

"Sign my book, Castle." She narrows her eyes at him. "And then, we'll see."

He glances down at the book, seems to pale for a second. "Did you. . .you haven't-" He shakes his head, studies her for a second, then signs the front cover carefully. She watches his handwriting, reads it upside down as he does:

_Kate - Only you. - Rick._

He winks at her and hands it back; she leans over the table and kisses him, her fingers at his chin to hold him there even in his surprise. His handler or agent or whatever she is makes a move forward, like she might actually stop Kate (ha!), but Castle is waving the woman away, coming back for another kiss.

"Hey beautiful," he says softly, so only she can hear. "Wait for me?"

"Always," she murmurs back, smiling a little. "I'll be outside, Castle."

* * *

><p>Beth sinks her teeth into her lower lip to trap the laugh in her throat, and resolutely looks away from Alex, studies the decoration of the hotel instead.<p>

The lobby is simple and elegant at once, just like the rest of the hotel; some rich-looking people are making their way in and Beth looks down at her own clothes, a little self-conscious.

There's nothing wrong with her outfit – it's actually a very nice Valentino dress that Castle and Kate got her for her birthday – but she's just…not used to it yet. The life of luxury led by these people who regularly spend the night at the Mercer Hotel.

Her eyes find Alex again; he's still talking with the guy manning the desk, casually leaning against the counter. He changed clothes as well, and she loves the deep blue shirt that echoes the color of his eyes, the dark jeans that hug his ass in a rather – appealing way.

They're late already, and yet when he came out of the bathroom wearing those pants, she had to resist the temptation to peel them off him. But, no, they really had to go.

Which brings her back to her present concern: what the hell can he and the hotel employee be talking about? Alex knows they have little time to spare –

Oh. Maybe – but – no.

Beth feels her cheeks flame up, averts her eyes. This is an expensive hotel, right? The rooms must be soundproofed. They must be.

The guy can't possibly be telling Alex that they got complaints about the noise.

Can he?

Because if – if the rooms aren't soundproofed –

Beth presses a hand to her burning cheek, her heart thumping in her chest. She knows she is pretty vocal – always was – and with what Alex did to her last night… Oh. Oh god.

But no, no, she has to be wrong. There's no way –

"Beth?"

She jumps at the sound of his voice, then laughs nervously at her own stupidity.

"What were you talking about?" She can't help but ask, sliding her hand into his and squeezing gently.

Alex looks at her in confusion, his eyebrows knitting as he takes her in. "Nothing much," he says. "The guy offered his congratulations, and I asked if they had a lot of newlywed customers, and we just – chatted. He's pretty funny."

"Oh." She really is an idiot. "Right."

"Why?" Alex asks, arching an interested eyebrow. Damn. Why doesn't she have a poker face like Kate's?

"Nothing," she answers, flashing him a smile that she hopes will distract him.

He moves closer, brushes his lips along the line of her jaw, before whispering in her ear, "Liar."

His left hand comes to rest on her waist and Beth arches instinctively, her body still sensitive and overeager despite her sore muscles. She turns her head and her mouth finds his, the heat immediately thickening between them. Alex pulls her closer and she hums against his lips, presses herself to him as her tongue prods at his mouth, looking for a way in.

He breaks the kiss first, rests his forehead to hers; his respiration is a little jagged, and hers is no better.

"God, Beth," he murmurs, sounding half-frustrated, half in awe. "How can I –"

"Still want you so much?" she finishes in a breath. "I don't know," she laughs, nuzzling at his cheek. "But I want you too."

His arms around her tighten; she lifts her eyes to find his closed, his whole face tense with the effort of holding back.

"Don't say things like that, woman," he orders between gritted teeth. "There's no time. We have to catch that plane. No time."

"Don't call me woman," she shoots back, a giggle escaping her despite her best efforts. "I'm your wife."

His blue eyes open at once, full of adoration and delight; she has to rise on her tiptoes to press a kiss to that smiling mouth, her hands closing on the lapels of his leather jacket.

Something prickles at her thumb; the corner of an envelope is tucked in his inside pocket, she realizes when she breaks away.

"What is that?" She asks curiously, snatching the small, white envelope and turning it between her fingers.

_Beth and Alex_, it says. She recognizes Castle's messy script.

"Oh, Rick gave that to me last night," Alex says, trying – and failing – to get the envelope back. "When he told me about the Mercer. Beth, he said we weren't to open it before the last day of our honeymoon…"

"Oooh, secrets," she says with a cheeky smile, stepping back to keep the thing out of his reach. "What if I want to open it now?"

She *does* want to open it; they won't get any of the presents before they come back from their honeymoon, and patience has never been Beth's forte. This will make up for the mountain of presents she didn't get to touch last night.

"Beth," Alex scolds when her fingers start tugging lightly – she's trying not to tear it open. "Beth, give it back."

She laughs and gives him an impish look before she runs away from him like a little girl, skirting his outstretched hand and darting through the mini-crowd (all of five people) waiting at the reception desk.

"Beth!"

He catches her just when she's sliding the card out of the envelope, his strong arms circling her waist; he's laughing too, and she teases, "Too late, Mr. Conrad," waving the card at him victoriously.

His disappointed sigh is too heavy to be sincere; he shakes his head at her, still smiling. "Fine, then. Since you can't respect anything."

Beth sticks her tongue at him, then looks down at the piece of paper in her hands.

"_Home is where the heart is,_" she reads. "And it's signed, _Rick, Kate and Alexis._"

She turns the little card, but nothing else is written on it. Just that phrase, and their names.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she says, confused and vaguely annoyed because she hates not to understand. Alex takes the card from her, looks at it, shrugs.

"I have no idea."

On the verge of becoming thoroughly upset – she _really_ hates puzzles – Beth jiggles the envelope, and catches a glimpse of metal as something falls from it, lands silently on the carpet.

A key. She picks it up and examines it closely; it looks familiar, but she can't remember –

"A key," Alex says, echoing her thoughts. "Do you know what it opens?"

She shakes her head, opens her mouth to say that she doesn't –

– and then it hits her.

She's seen that key before. In her sister's hand. She recognizes the peculiar dented edge, the scratches, the bronze color.

"Kate's apartment," she murmurs, still unsure what meaning she should give to the object.

"What?"

"This – this is the key to Kate's apartment," she says a little louder, her heart stuttering because it can't mean – they can't be –

But the card. _Home is where the heart is._ The card, and the key. Oh god. She can't breathe. Oh, Kate.

"The key to Kate's apartment?"

Alex sounds absolutely clueless, unaware of the fantastic gift they've just been given (and she thought a night at the Mercer was pretty spectacular) – but she doesn't doubt any more, because this has Castle and Kate written all over it, and even though they're crazy – they're out of their damn minds – this is so incredibly sweet and wonderful and _oh_ - Katie.

"Oh my god, they're giving us the apartment," she breathes, lifting her eyes to Alex and finding that his contours are blurring. Damn her sister and her tear-inducing presents.

"What?" Alex sounds disbelieving – of course – but his hand clenches on her wrist and she can tell that his mind must have come to the same conclusion.

"Alex - Rick and Kate. And Alexis. They're giving us Kate's apartment."

He stares at her for a long, long time, blue eyes wide and mouth open in shock.

"Holy shit," he says at last, looking completely stunned.

"Yeah," Beth agrees, dizzy with awe and gratitude. "Yeah, you can say that again."

* * *

><p>Kate leans against the brick edifice of the bookstore, Castle's novel against her chest, arms crossed, waiting on him. It's cooler in the shadow of the building and she's had to put her leather jacket back on to ward off the chill. She's tempted to read the book while she waits, but she'd rather curl up warm on the couch with a glass of wine or maybe even with him, the author, reading over her shoulder. Sometimes he does that (when he's not too sick of his own words).<p>

The bullet scar itches between her breasts, but she knows that scratching it will only irritate it more. The skin at her side - that still aches. The scar there travels along her ribs like a ribbon, and it pulls tight in the cold; she kneads her fingertips into it and tries to be more patient.

She's still wary of the mournful man she saw inside the bookstore this afternoon. Evening. All because she didn't show up until the last minute? Honestly, it doesn't reconcile with the man who persistently showed up at her father's cabin each day, stayed even when she tried to send him home, and finally convinced her to convalesce at his home in the Hamptons.

The morose writer at that book signing also isn't the same guy who danced with her at Beth's wedding reception and casually threw out this invitation. So Kate has no idea what happened in there, but she's going to find out.

She doesn't wait long. Castle exits with a few employees, his smile back in place, and she joins him as they head towards the sidewalk, one arm curling around his book so she can lace her fingers through his.

"Cold," he murmurs, smiling over at her and squeezing her chilled fingers.

"Someone made me wait," she grins back, grateful that it's her Castle who walks beside her, and not whatever that was inside. "I tried to get here earlier-"

"No, I know," he said. "I knew it was possible you might not make it."

"You looked so sad," she says softly, a warning and a question both.

"No. Just disappointed."

Kate flinches at that, turns her head to avoid that look on his face - the look she knows will be there. He said she was enough, more than enough; somehow she has to fight to still believe that right now.

"Not in you, Kate. I just - I had plans, have plans, and it looked like things weren't going my way. I - not you," he says, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and bringing her up short.

She hazards a look at his face, concern and exasperation and a fair amount of eye-rolling in her general direction. It's a little ridiculous how much she doesn't want to disappoint him, how much she needs to be enough for him, be good enough. Be more.

She feels silly words trying to blurt out of her mouth, leap out into the space between them: _I'm trying; I'm trying._

He knows that. She knows he knows that. This is ridiculous. It was just seeing his whipped look in the store-

"Here, wait. Come with me," he says, and proceeds to jaywalk across the street. And Kate, tied to him by their joined hands, finds herself following after.

"Castle-"

"I sort of planned something a lot better than this but - well, this will do. A good story."

A good story?

He stops in front of the open gate to the public park, pushes her inside, herding her towards the playground. She hates to be herded, so she shakes off his hand and pushes him back, giving him a look. "Where are we going?"

"Come swing with me."

"Swing? It's cold out here-"

"Come sit, Kate." He snags the chain of the swing on the right, waits until she sighs and drops down into the rubbery, curved seat of the one beside it before he sits himself.

She splays her legs out in front of her, lets the book fall to her lap, holding it in place with one hand. Kate wraps her fingers around the chain of the swing, tilts back a little to look up at the dimming sky, then leans her head against the chain, her eyes on Castle now. He's watching her intently.

"Have you started the book yet?"

"No. Waiting for you," she admits, letting loose a fluid smile. Her stomach clenches at the answering look on his face.

He's hunched forward in the swing, barely even on it, his elbows on his knees, and he grins back at her. "You look tired."

"A little. You said you had plans?" Dinner maybe. Dinner out? She could really go for Chinese takeout and some wine, a night reading in bed. "I don't want to really go anywhere-"

"Mm, yeah," he shrugs, and she smiles again because he looks like he can do away with his plans if she wants.

Which is nice. But maybe she should make an effort here.

"We can go if-"

"Hey, Kate?"

She pauses, surprised at his interruption, at the way he looks, hands laced together and face both resigned and a little breathless at the same time.

"Open the book."

Open the book? She glances down to his novel, spreads her palm across the glossy cover. For once, Nikki Heat doesn't look naked, but she's still poised Charlie's Angels style with her gun, the city skyline behind her. Kate waits a moment, taking it in, hears the chains of his swing creak, the sharp call of a mother on the other side of the playground, the running feet, the thump of a body on the slide.

She opens the book, flips past the title page, eager for the first chapter (how his books always give her the same thrill that the weird homicide cases do), but she stops on the dedication page - like she always does, and she reads it first.

_Please say yes._

Kate lifts startled eyes to find Castle on one knee in front of her, hesitant but determined, his face opened up in expectation and love, filled with a question he already knows the answer to. His hand is pulling a box out of his jacket pocket.

"Kate-"

"Yes," she interrupts, her eyes caught by his.

He laughs, relief and mischief in his voice, catches her even as she slides out of the swing and down into his arms. "You haven't even let me ask-"

"It's yes. Yes. No need to ask-"

"Kate," he chides, but his arms are tight around her, dragging her into his lap as he sits back in the grass. "At least let me put the ring on you."

She laughs back, her chest in a tight fist around her heart, her thrashing, madly beating heart. She knew he would do this, and soon, knew it, but still to have him kneeling down in front of her, to see the words in the book - her book-

He's fumbling at her hand, tugging her finger into the space between them; she drops her head to watch, shell-shocked and thrilled and overcome.

It's not any of the rings she looked at in the artist's studio, but a strange combination of all three. A platinum band with a single diamond inset, but edging the bottom of the ring is a groove that makes the diamond look as if it floats in a sky of silver.

"Is it okay?"

She blinks and lifts her head, lets him see the moisture collecting in her eyes, wipes at her cheeks with the back of her hand. Her other hand.

"I love it."

"That ridge at the bottom - it's supposed to have diamonds in it, but I didn't think you'd like that. But if you want them - it will hold them. And maybe on anniversaries, I could get a diamond or a sapphire or whatever you want put-"

She shuts him up with her mouth against his, the hot, flush feeling of their lips meeting, aggressive and needy. She slides a hand to his back, at his shoulder blade, holding him against her, keeping her warm as the sun sets, while she curls her other hand at his collar, feeling the ring between her fingers, cool and beautiful, the warmth of his throat at her fingertips.

He slides past her mouth to graze her jaw, nibble at her ear. She shivers and reminds herself they're in public, on a kids' playground - not here.

"I'm so in love with you," he murmurs.

She's not sure she's ever heard him say it quite like that, and the molten feeling of her insides makes her curl towards him, her mouth finding that spot under his ear and sucking.

"Ah - Kate-" he groans, pressing her against him with both hands at her waist. "Stop, wait. Stop-"

She hears her own strangled moan, the anguish of not having him _right now_, but she pulls back, tries to breathe.

She needs some levity. Some humor to crack the lustful tension coiling her body tighter and tighter-

"Okay, so ask already," she says, trying on a smile, seeing his agonized arousal strip away for a look of laughing surprise.

"Oh yeah? I think I already have my answer."

"I'm not sure it counts-"

"Oh, it counts," he says darkly, narrowing his eyes at her. "But just so you can never use that against me - Kate Beckett, marry me."

"That's not a question."

He growls and snags her lips with mouth, a kiss of teeth and his aggressive tongue, but she gives very little and pushes him back before it goes anywhere.

He huffs. "Fine. Will you marry me?"

"Don't sound so exasperated-"

She moves to twist away from him when his fingers go to her sides to tickle her, only it's not helpless laughter, but pain that stiffens her and jolts along her ribs, flares up her back, and damn, that does the job of clearing her head rather well too. Kate leans against him, panting through it, and he stills, cups the back of her head.

"Sorry, I forgot, I'm sorry-"

"I'm okay," she grits out. "I'm okay. Don't-"

But she doesn't know what she's telling him not to do. Don't take it so hard? Don't feel so guilty? _Don't stop loving me?_

_"_Kate," he murmurs, his arm cautiously drawing around her, not too tight, his lips at her forehead.

She struggles back from the sensation of pain, wonders why now, why here, with this, hates the scar and the bullet and that whole day-

"I'll marry you," she says instead, her mouth against his cheek, knowing he hears her. "I love you."

She feels his chest ease, his arm not so tense, feels the gentle brush of his lips against her forehead, her nose, her cheekbones, her closed eyelids.

"I'll be better," she promises.

She'll be better than this.

A kiss to the beauty mark under her eye. "You're fine-"

"For you, Castle. Better for you."

Not just the scars on her skin, but the scars on her heart as well.


End file.
